


Unhallowed Wretch

by ApocalypseBarbiee



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Michael Langdon - Freeform, Michael Langdon x Reader - Freeform, Michael Langdon x You - Freeform, Protective Michael, Sad Michael, Slow Burn, Young Michael Langdon, michael langdon x female reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 76,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseBarbiee/pseuds/ApocalypseBarbiee
Summary: Reader is a girl who is bought from her caretaker, and sent to live with the Langdon's as a "companion" for their son, Michael. He's not the son of the Devil, but he might as well be. I was inspired by Frankenstein to write this.
Comments: 101
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say.”  
― Daphne duMaurier, Rebecca

“Y/N, Tell me about Michael,” Mallory whispered sleepily as she rested against my shoulder. I did not know where to begin. 

“I think….those we meet in childhood possess a certain power over our minds that those we meet later just cannot obtain. His beauty has always maddened me….“  
Truthfully, I did not know how to describe my love for Michael in words. It had been over two years since I last saw him. My empty nights were spent thinking of him. My thoughts became so vivid that it seemed like he could appear at any second. The ringing lilt of his voice was like poetry to me. The smell of cinnamon would disturb my senses, and I’d close my eyes, envisioning his face. His iridescent eyes and full lips…

When I first saw him, I was entranced. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to bathe him in perfume and dress him in velvet. I wanted to destroy him. I want, I want, I want. He wears a mask of indifference, yet sorrow makes up his entire being. He wears it well. Sorrow flatters all his hard edges like the light of candles, like diamonds. In random moments of softness, I would look to his eyes- steady, beautiful, and empty. But….for a brief second, I would see a woe pass over them so great, it would bring tears to my eyes. It was the look of someone who had left their childhood home for good and knew they could never return. 

It was raining and thundering loudly as Mallory and I sat in the carriage. We could scarcely hear anything above it. I smiled.  
“How can you smile? It’s a dreadful noise,” Mallory said, looking on edge.  
“I’ve always loved storms. It’s like seeing God. The great and terrible nature of God…When Michael and I were younger, we used to go up on the roof to watch the storms as they came through. I think we both saw different things as we watched those storms. I saw beauty in the destruction they caused, while Michael saw…power. But a power he despised because he could not control it or access it himself. Nothing bothers him more than something he cannot control.” Suddenly, a memory of Michael’s voice rang in my head. 

_“If goodness does exist, then I’m the opposite of it. I’m evil, and I revel in it.”_

Mallory’s voice brought me back to the present. “I wished I could have known him more.”  
“You will. We will find him, and all of us will be together, and my heart will be…happy once again.” I hoped my false tone did not betray the fear I felt. I did not want her to regret coming with me on this trip to find Michael. 

Michael’s father Benjamin initially refused to let us go and search for Michael. I could tell he was relieved that his son had been gone so long. Eventually, Benjamin left for a trip that he did not feel the need to explain to me. It was the perfect time to take Mallory on our own little trip. Michael’s younger John would stay with the maid while we were away. 

The thunder rumbled loudly again, frightening Mallory, who put her face against my neck.  
“Y/N, I wish this storm would end.” Though Mallory and I were both from similar lives of immense pain and suffering, we were totally different in temperament. She had an easy smile, was open with everyone she met, and was one of the most loving people I had ever known. And I was….not like her. I only cared for two people in my life- one who was with me at this moment, and one who had gone, borne away by waves and lost in darkness and distance.  
…………….

I was a girl of twelve wearing a dress for a woman of twenty. It looked ridiculous on me with its sleeves that hung down way past my wrists. At least this disgusting mass of fabric concealed the bruises that were littered over my form. Even as a child, I knew I did not want anyone to see them. I didn’t allow anyone a peek behind the curtain for fear that someone would think they knew me or my situation. I wanted to appear as a blank canvas, my body and my eyes giving nothing of myself away. I could not afford that luxury. I wanted to feel nothing and be nothing. I needed to protect myself, as life had already taught me so well. My Mother had given me up at birth. Or she had died. I was not sure which. I lived with a cruel woman who was currently fixing my hair. She harshly tugged at the strands making my eyes water. 

“You need to make them love you. This is your last chance. I’ve tried disciplining you so you would not turn out like your selfish Mother, but alas, you cannot change a person’s destiny. At least, I cannot. Not anymore. If you do not charm them, make them take you with them……I’m afraid I will have to resort to desperate measures.”  
Just last month I had been beaten by my caretaker until I was black and blue, and barely conscious, just for sneaking a little bit of food. I did not want to know what her definition of desperate measures were. I lifted my chin as a small knock sounded at the door. My caretaker led a woman through it. She was wearing a deep burgundy cloak and her head was surrounded by blonde hair like a halo. 

“This is Y/N. Fate stole her Mother and Father, but has not touched her lovely soul.”  
I briefly wondered why the foolish, dim-witted woman I had always known was suddenly speaking as if she actually cared about me or my soul, anger burning through my form, when the mysterious woman, who I came to know as Mrs. Langdon, said, 

“Y/N, I want you to meet my son.” She sounded scared. “Would you like to?”  
I nodded without looking into her eyes. She took my hand and led me out the door, not sparing one word or glance for my caretaker. 

“My son is only a few years older than you. His name is Michael. He is…special. Very smart and curious….He does not make friends easily. He tends to intimidate other children. I do not want my son to spend these important years alone. I think you would be the perfect companion for him. A gentle influence.” Gentle? I could hardly understand why she thought me gentle. I had the mind to put my hands around her throat and squeeze for thinking of me in such a way.  
“Could you do that, Y/N? Would you be his companion?” 

……….  
We arrived at the Langdon household. It was breathtaking in a way I had never experienced, and I knew I would be whatever Mrs. Langdon needed me to be for her son so that I could stay in this safe, clean space. She led me through hallways of green and gold to the garden outside. Michael was standing alone with his hands clasped behind his back. He was only a few years older than me but seemed way older in the way he carried himself, and his manner of dress.  
“Michael, I have brought you a friend. This is Y/N.” He turned around, and his hooded blue eyes met mine. He was wearing black and white, and stood towering over me. He looked so put together in the lovely rose garden with his perfect fair skin, light hair that fell right below his ears, and the most beautiful lips I had ever seen on a male. I stood in my patchy, too-big dress feeling immense shame which always turned into anger. He must have noticed how different we were. As I watched him, sizing him up, the strangest thing occurred to me. It did not seem like he was looking at my clothing at all. It almost appeared like he did not know that there was this huge gap between who we were as people. He started to smile. It was a beautiful smile, though he looked uncomfortable, like it rarely appeared on his visage. He said, 

“Hello,” and I said it back, while his Mother looked on. What could I offer this boy that he did not already have? In a torrent of words, I said the only thing I could think of. 

“Do you want to go find a bird’s nest? It’s Spring, so it’s the perfect time to look.” He looked confused as he squinted his eyes and furrowed his brow. Eventually, he nodded, and took my hand like a child would. His Mother let out a relieved breath as I led him out of the rose garden and into the forest behind the house. As we walked, I noticed a path up ahead that led to a lake. Following the path, I kept my eyes up to the treetops while I held this strange boy’s hand. It felt supremely important to find this nest for Michael. 

“Up there! I see one!” I had just unlatched my hand from Michael’s and was pulling away to go fetch the nest when his large hand went around my wrist. He yanked me back into his chest.  
“It’s too high.”  
“I can get it. I will just climb the tree.”  
“Girl’s shouldn’t climb trees.” Was this true? I had always climbed trees. I had no idea how the world worked outside my own. I looked up at Michael. He was staring down at me with a look that was blank and intimidating at the same time. With him standing this close, I could smell him. Something sweet and spicy. Cinnamon? He still held my wrist in a bruising grip. What was one more bruise on my body? I looked down at my feet, and said,  
“Maybe I can climb this one last tree. For you.” Without realizing it, I had started to pull away from Michael’s grip. He suddenly let go of my wrist, and I fell into the Spring grass, knocking the wind out of myself. I looked at him, incredulous, and a bit angry. He must have thought my shock funny, as he laughed.  
“Alright little girl, go climb the tree.”  
Like I needed his permission. Wait. I did actually have to make a good impression on this spoiled brat. I got up off the ground and walked to the tree, rolling my eyes. As I was climbing the trunk, I said,  
“I will tell you if there any eggs in it.”  
“No. You can just show me.”  
“But if we move the nest down there, the Mother bird might get confused.”  
“Y/N, you said you would SHOW me a nest. Are you a liar?” His eyes looked so angry as they stared up at me. His nostrils flared as he waited for an answer.  
“No, I’m not a liar.” He rolled his eyes. I reached the nest and peered down inside of it. There were three tiny eggs in a powdered blue color. I carefully grabbed the nest that was tangled in the branch. I reasoned that I would show Michael, and then bring it back up the tree. It was extremely difficult climbing down without fracturing it, especially with Michael’s intense eyes on me, and his silence lingering throughout the woods. Once I got down, I brought the nest to Michael, proudly. He leaned over me.  
“When will they hatch?”  
“Soon. I think these are Robins eggs.”  
He looked annoyed. He grabbed the nest from my hands and set it down on the path. We both sat down beside it. I lightly touched my fingertip to an egg.  
“They are so warm. They remind me of the sky.”  
Michael looked at me.  
“You’re strange.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back at me. He picked up one of the eggs and held it to the sun.  
He said,  
“Look, you can see the bird through the shell. It’s like reading tea leaves or tarot. Seeing the future. Beautiful.”  
This statement was so endearing to me that I knew I had to have Michael’s friendship. I had to make him want my company. I had to have him. Just like the way I had to have everything I wanted. At such a young age, I felt already that something in me was tainted or broken. That I could not experience genuine affection except the fake affection I put on to ensure my survival. But secretly….Secretly I wanted what everyone wants. I wanted to feel things- love, pain, grief. Something that would deeply touch and humanize me for the first time.  
The next day, Mrs. Langdon paid a huge sum to my caretaker, and I lived full-time with the Langdon’s.  
……

That’s the story I tell Mallory. And it is mostly true. Words are used to elicit reactions, and I refuse to experience Mallory’s reaction to the details I have left out of my narrative. What Michael did to the Robin’s eggs after holding them up to the sun is one such detail that I will never divulge.  
Through the rain, our carriage continued to the town that swallowed up Michael. And Dorian. I had sent Dorian to bring Michael back home, and now both had gone silent. I had been through too much concerning Michael. My youth was spent doing whatever necessary to win his heart, and I would continue to do whatever it took to keep it. I would not leave this strange city without him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Mallory get settled in their strange lodgings.

“Our virtues are the quicksands, which show themselves at calm and low water; but let the waves arise and the winds buffet them, and the poor devil whose hope was in their durability, finds them sink from under him.”  
― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, The Last Man

Never in my life could I recall my dreams, unless they were particularly gruesome or strange. But for the past few months, my sleep was interrupted by the most peculiar images. Ones that would leave me in wonder long after I awoke, or make me jolt out of bed, a scream on my lips.  
  
  
In this particular dreamscape, I am walking through a desolate plain. It is black as pitch as I walk. Lightning careens through the red sky, and as it does, I can see brief flashes of the image before me. It is a scene of chaos and destruction. There is a tall tower perched on top of a jagged, rocky mountain. It looks stable, and overbearing. As I approach, a flash of lightning strikes the tower, setting it alight on impact. I stop in my tracks, watching the fire. People began to crowd around the windows and dive out head first. There is no sound- it is silent as if I have no hearing at all. Some of the people in the doomed tower choose not to jump at all. Instead, they stand at the windows looking unsure and afraid. But their indecision means naught to the power destroying this tower. There is no escape. Change is here to tear things asunder, so you might as well surrender. As they stand in their indecision, the tower crumbles and falls to pieces over some dark ledge-a drop that leads to some unknown fate.  
………….  
  
  
I wake up in the carriage once it comes to a stop. Before this trip, I had written ahead to arrange lodgings for Mallory and I. Mallory had assumed we would be staying with Michael, but I did not want to assume any such thing. After two years, a person can change immensely. I needed to see him again to ascertain what he needed from me, and who he needed me to be. We stood under an awning, knocking on the door of the establishment that would house us for the night. The door opened a crack. A woman’s face looked upon us. 

  


  
“What do you want?” she said with ferocity in her voice.

  


I smiled. “Hello. I am Y/N. I wrote to you about a room for-“  
  
“We lock the doors once the sun sets. Once the sun is gone, no one gets through.” The rain was picking up now, soaking us through. Mallory trembled beside me. 

  


  
“Yes, of course. Your letter did not mention that, and we only just arrived. We were not aware that this was the rule, though it is a most sensible one. I’m so grateful to you! As two young women traveling alone, we appreciate a female ally to care for our well-being as lodgers.” She looked at me in confusion and frowned. She examined us both, and our carriage. 

  


  
“Well….come out of the rain, then. I don’t want you tracking water through my house. And be aware this will never happen again.”  
“Thank you so much. We are grateful to you!” Mallory stared down, not making eye contact with our host. She was acting like a scared child who was just disciplined, and it made me hate our hostess even more.  
  
“Are you sisters?”  
  
“Not by blood. Mallory works for my benefactors. But I consider her a sister to me.” Many people assumed Mallory and I were related. We did not have much similarity in features, but we were both petite, giving us a fragile look and making us seem incapable of harm, which could always work in a woman’s favor. Mallory had rich brown hair that would shine red and gold in the sun. Her eyes were tawny, wide and bright but held hints of sorrow and suffering that drew me to her and made me want to protect her. All those whom I loved carried sorrow. When love is reached through suffering, it has a power it cannot reach through innocence. 

  


  
As Mallory brought our trunk in, I paid the coachmen, and made future plans for him to escort us back home when the time came. The door was slammed behind us, the two deadbolts locked in haste. 

  
“Surely a university city cannot be so dangerous?” I spoke.  
“I doubt you have heard the stories of this place where you’re from. This place has had its fair share of tragedies, and strange events. You can never trust anything or anyone here. A fog of bad luck hangs around this place.”  
“I do not believe in bad luck, miss.”  
“It does not matter. When you’re here, bad luck believes in you.” She took us through a dim entryway lit by candles, and past a winding staircase, through a dark hall. 

“You can call me Myrtle. The house rules are as follows: no men are allowed in the house, period. Ever. Breakfast is at six and will not be served to anyone who arrives after that time. Only quiet activities will be permitted in the house after sunset. Dinner is served promptly at seven. After the sun sets, the doors will be locked. My key is the only one that opens that front door, so do not go thinking you can sneak eachother in and out. I will know.”  
“Are there any other guests here?”  
“No. None.” She pushed open a door. It slowly creaked open. 

“This will be your room.” Before I could thank her, or enquire further, she turned, and walked off. No “Have a good night,” in sight. I found a lamp on the desk. The wick was lit, but just barely. I turned up the gas to take in the room. Maybe I should have left it dimmed. It was small and barren. I walked to the windows, and noticed they were all shuttered. More than that, they seemed to be nailed shut. Mallory was still by the entryway with our trunk. She was looking around, nervously wringing her hands. I looked to her.  
“I hope you are not letting that woman bother you. She’s just an unhappy harpy. Ignore her. We will not be here long. Once we find Michael, we will find better lodgings.”  
“Dorian too,” she replied. “I can hardly wait to see his kind smile.”  
“Of course.” I had no idea if Dorian was still in this city. I told Mallory he was so she would be more likely to accompany me on this venture. She felt so at home at the Langdon’s isolated manor. Being there, with the lake around the property separating her from the town, dissociated her from her old life. She did not mind if she never left its grounds. She was totally content with staying and taking care of the home, and of young John, while I constantly dreamt of escape. Dorian was one of the things she would leave for, and I knew that.  
  
Michael and Dorian were once close, but I had come between them. I felt a little twinge of guilt but pushed it back. I had done what was necessary. I could not care too much about this issue. I was still angry at them both. For leaving to explore, study, and work for futures that were promised to them based on their birthright- their sex. Women had to find other means to secure a future. I may have to lie and deceive but felt little on the matter. I do not believe in an ultimate “good” or “evil.” In the end, they cannot really be separated when you examine them closely. 

  


  
Me and Mallory got to work beating the dust out of the blankets and trying our best to purify our space.  
…………………

_Michael had frequent bouts of melancholy which would leave him tired and weepy in bed for days, and sometimes weeks, at a time. During one particularly rough period, Dorian had convinced me to come to town with him after being cooped up in the house, caring for Michael. We were strolling through the market, observing the people buying strawberries, and laughing under the sun. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. The sun, to be out amongst people, and Dorian’s laugh and easy manner. He was easy to be with. Suddenly, a piercing scream broke the spell. We rushed to the sound, and observed a woman standing over a girl. The girl was leaning down, with her arms over her head to protect herself. The woman was shouting at the girl, and lifting a broom over her head, as if to strike. In that moment, I became that 12-year-old girl I once was. With a flash of anger, I ran in front of the young girl, taking the broom’s blow on my shoulder. Hard. The woman stepped back with shock on her face. She looked fearful, dropping the broom onto the dirt. My fine skirts and jewelry put me in the ranks of higher society, and this woman knew it._

__

__

__

__

“Pardon me. I did not mean to hit you…”  
“You attacked me.”  
“No! Let me make this right. Please, miss.”  
“The only way you can make this right is by helping me find a maid to help me recover. As you can see, you injured my shoulder.” The woman looked around, not knowing what to say. I looked down at the young girl.  
“In exchange for not involving anyone else in this matter, you will give me your maid.” She looked down on the girl’s cowering form with a look of pure disdain.  
“She is not my maid. She is my daughter.” I was already leaning down, gently taking the girl’s hands from around her head, and looking into her eyes.  
“I will have the employment contract sent to you to sign. She will live with me until…..I decide otherwise.” Would Mr. Langdon even allow me to do this? I did not know, but I tugged her hand anyway until she stood. I pulled her along behind me, and Dorian, looking appalled and shaken by what had just occurred, followed along behind her. We crossed the street, entering a side alley. 

_I leaned against the wall, breathing hard, my mask of calm slipping off, and shattering. The girl did the same, but sunk to her haunches, eyes closed, taking shaky breaths. I had thought I had outgrown this. It had been years since a hand had been raised towards me. But no. I was still the same watchful, afraid girl on the inside- heart beating out my chest.  
  
“Thank you,” whispered the girl. Wrapping her pinky around mine, stilling the shake of our hands.  
  
“I am Y/N.”  
  
“I am Mallory.” She had a large bruise on her face, and tears in her eyes. She looked about my age. She stood and pressed her forehead into mine in a gesture that took my breath away with its gentleness.  
  
“My Mother hates me. I do not know why. I am her daughter, yet she treats me as if I were a complete stranger- worse! She treats me like an enemy…..she says I have the Devil in me. She tells me she needs to beat the Devil out of me-“  
  
“Shh..” I nestled her head in the curve of my neck. I already felt a deep connection to this girl and was overcome. I wanted to help Mallory in the way the Langdon’s had helped me. I wanted her to be apart of my life forever.  
  
“I do not actually need a maid to help me recover. Honestly, I’m sure my shoulder is fine.”  
  
“So, you do not want me to live with you?” She seemed on the verge of tears again as her head flew up from my neck.  
  
“No! I do, I do. Can you read, and write?”  
  
“Yes. My Father taught me before he died.”  
  
“Have you ever considered being a governess?”  
  
“I care for my siblings at home, but…I’m not sure. I may be too stupid to-“  
  
“Your Mother is a fool. Never believe anything she told you about yourself. They were all lies. I am going to introduce the Langdon’s to their new governess. You will be apart of the family, just like I am. Do you understand?”  
She nodded. She kissed my cheek, and I gasped.  
  
“Thank you, Y/N. You have saved my life. You are like an angel.”  
_ …………  
  
Mallory was the angel in my life. I needed her light desperately. She had a light in her that was almost blinding, while I had only darkness inside me. I tried my hardest to keep the darkness from her and hoped she would in turn atone me. I wished I had been able to save her from her life sooner. I was taken in by the Langdon’s at twelve, while she had to spend seventeen years with that vile woman. My love for her and Michael was overwhelming. I was content if they loved me too. IF. All the most terrifying sentences containing the word ‘If’ involve people. All the good ones, too. Michael, why did you leave me?  
We tried opening the windows again when we heard a knock on the door to our room. Crossing the floor, I opened it, seeing Myrtle holding a lit candle in the darkness. She gave me four pieces of cotton.  
  
“What is this?” I replied, confusion apparent on my face.  
  
“Use them in your ears. To muffle…the sounds.” She walked away, while me and Mallory looked at eachother in bewilderment. I shut the door softly. Mallory said, 

  


“This is a strange place.”  
  
“It’s just one night.” Of course, neither of us ended up using the cotton. We both felt the need to be aware of our surroundings, and that just would not do.  
…………  
  
I listened to make sure Mallory was sleeping before I crept out of bed. At home, I would frequently sneak into Michael’s bed in the middle of the night. He was always awake, reading a book, or writing, or just thinking. Seeing me creep in, he would move his work to the side, pull back the quilt, and let me into his bed, and into his arms. Whenever I felt especially lonely the past two years, I would think about him, and how, wherever he was, he was probably awake too. I wished that there was one book in this strange house. Sadly, I would have no shame curling up next to a book in my bed, caressing it like a lover, only because books, bed, and comfort were so intertwined in my mind.  
I walked to the door, and softly turned the knob. It was locked from the outside. I started to feel suffocated in this small, dingy room. Locked in from both directions. The lamp had long burnt out. I began to feel afraid. I craned my neck to look in the corner. Is there a man standing there? No, that could not be. But….it almost looks like the shadow of a man, shifting slowly from foot to foot, clenching his fists tightly. I ran over to the corner in question. It was empty, of course. I felt delirious with my surroundings, and from the slight undertone of fear coursing through me.  
I went to the window and started to work on prying the nails from the slats. I would go to Michael’s in the morning and would approach him in a calm manner. Anger never worked with him. His haughty smirk at my fury was enough to make me want to strike him or pull his hair until he fell to his knees. I could not let it come to that. I would embrace him and remind him that he loved me. If he brought up Dorian, I would act surprised about what he told me. If that did not work, I would simply cry. He hated my tears. If I ever started to cry, he would as well. His eyes would fill with tears, and his plump lips would tremble. He would do anything to help me and stop my tears. I would not be truthful if I said I didn’t want to see this emotion from him. I wanted him to cry. I wanted to be mean to him, for leaving me alone. My finger caught on the final nail, sending blood down the window. I put the digit in my mouth, cleansing it. The rain had stopped. The moon shone brightly in the darkness of the night. Hopefully, the hostess would not notice anything was amiss with the window. I sat on my bed, staring up at the moon through the pane, listening for strange noises.  
……  
  
I must have drifted back to sleep, as I was back in the crumbling tower dream. I walked away from the tower, preferring not to replay the scene, and took the path leading back the way I came. As I walked, the sun started to rise at a rapid rate, but instead of filling me with joy and hope, it just alarmed me, the heat burning my skin. I sped up. Looking down, I noticed a large snake was keeping pace with me on the path. As I glanced back between the too-bright sky, and the snake at my ankle, I almost walked right off the edge of a cliff that appeared in front of my face. I screamed and threw myself back onto the heels of my feet, stumbling to the ground behind me as the snake fell right over the ledge. There were white roses around my feet, stained with blood. I could smell it. The floral mixing with the copper, making me delirious. Suddenly, the smell of cinnamon, and from behind me, Michael’s familiar voice.  
  
“Do you know what it means to be loved by death? To have death know your name?”  
……..

I startled awake sometime before morning. Was it my imagination, or did I hear a faint scream coming from outside? I patiently waited for Myrtle to open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing for Myrtle, you do not know how hard it was to not write, "no men are allowed in the house, PERIODT!" While writing this chapter, it was gloomy, rained non-stop, and I listened to alot of dark piano music, like 'Totentanz' by Liszt, and 'Wanderer Fantasy in C Major, Op.15, Adagio' by Schubert. I have a whole 'dark piano music' playlist for when I write haha. I want to feel as if Hell has just opened up for me, and I'm taking my first steps inside. 
> 
> This was just basically a filler chapter to introduce Mallory's backstory. The next chapter will be longer. Maybe Michael will make an appearance :)
> 
> By the way, this quote: “Do you know what it means to be loved by death? To have death know your name?” Any Anne Rice fans here?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N and Mallory still search for Michael, while more of their past is revealed.

**Beauty and the devil are the same thing.  
-Robert Mapplethorpe**

After Myrtle unlocked the door, we all sat down to breakfast. I tried with everything in me to get Myrtle to warm up to me and Mallory, but to no avail. Maybe I was not as clever as I thought? I tried to bring up the issue of the locked door. I did not feel it was right that she took it upon herself to lock our door every night like we were misbehaving children.  
  
  
“I’m doing this to protect you. Now, eat some bread, and drink your milk, little girl.” Mallory had no trouble drinking the milk, while I could barely stomach anything in this homestead. The milk tasted sour, the bread was burnt, and Myrtle’s company was impossible. I could not wait to leave and find Michael. I could not spend another night in that place.  
  
Mallory and I took one step outside before we heard the slam of the heavy door, and the click of the lock. Sighing in relief, I pulled out Michael’s last letter, which I received more than eighteen months prior. It had an address at the top. I knew it was close to our location. I had also brought a map of the city- one I had drawn myself, long ago. Mallory wanted to hire a carriage, as the sky looked ominous once again. We had scarcely seen the sun since we arrived.  
  
“We are quite close. After sleeping in those god forsaken beds all night, a walk in the fresh air sounds refreshing to me.” Mallory and I had linked elbows and were leisurely walking along the cobblestone streets.  
  
“Have you ever thought about getting married, Y/N?”  
“Not in a serious manner…..Have you?” There was a long pause. I looked over to her, and she seemed unsure about answering.  
“I have had thoughts about it, but I could never leave the manor. I love my position too much.”  
“But, what if you did find someone? You wouldn’t act on it? Or, say, what if you found a better opportunity? You would give up everything- a chance for a new life, new experiences- just for the safety of the manor?”  
“I could never leave John.”  
“He will grow up, become a man, and surely leave you and the manor behind, without a second thought.”  
"That’s cruel of you to say…”  
“I’m not trying to hurt you. It’s just what happens. It’s natural. This job does not have to be your whole life, Mallory. Do you not want to travel, gain knowledge? Anything?”  
She unhooked her elbow from mine, looking discontent.

  
  
“I think my place is to teach John everything he needs to know. I just want security. Besides, I don’t want to fall in love. You are a lover of knowledge, and learning. In fact, you’re more intelligent than any man we’ve come across, and yet, I bet they are all looking down upon you, thinking you just a stupid girl. Does that not bother you? Why would falling in love, or anything of the sort, interest me when men think these things? Men do not truly care what we are thinking unless we are thinking of them.”  
“I cannot say I disagree with you on that last point.” Mallory’s statements burdened me. They may have hit too close to home. I myself was concerned about security above all else, only because I always had to fight for it, and was terrified of losing it. If I had to marry a man to achieve what I wanted, bored of them as I was, I would have. I would almost detest men if I did not need them so bad. I also did not really believe that Michael was the same as these men in question. He may have temperament problems, and a few other unsavory characteristics, but I believe he considered me just as intelligent as him. The certainty that Mallory and I would both give up adventure, travel, knowledge, and maybe even dignity, for simple security weighed me down uncomfortably. Being in love did the same thing, making you act in ways you would not in normal circumstances.  
  
We had come upon our destination. We knocked at the door and were met with an older gentleman with a wiry mustache.  
  
“I am looking for Michael Langdon. I received a letter postmarked from here last year.” He looked me up and down.  
“What do you want him for?”  
“I’m his cousin.” This was the term that Michael’s parents used when introducing me to others. Even though I had been living with the family for so long, I was not actually a true part of the family, and I never was permitted to forget it.  
“I have not seen Mr. Langdon since…..since he sent off that letter. More than a year…He lived here for a time, studying and working on some project or another. I cannot say I wasn’t glad to see him leave.”  
“And why is that?”  
“He was so paranoid. Arrogant too. He always thought everyone was spying on him and trying to read his work. As if anyone would be interested.”  
I stared at him with malice on my face. How dare he insult Michael. I had the same feelings about Michael’s “studies” most of the time, but how dare HE think it. I could tell the man was shutting himself off to me, shifting nervously on his feet. I changed tactics and smiled.  
“I assume that Michael left because he needed more space, or for another practical reason. I’m quite certain it had nothing to do with you. Do you happen to have his new address?” His face softened towards me.  
“I’m afraid I do not. If you leave your name, or an address, I can give it to him if he ever makes his way back here.” I left my name, and the address of the horrible housing we were currently staying at. I was not confident at all.

  
  
.......................  
  
_Eventually, when Michael turned sixteen, he was deemed “settled” enough to start attending the local school. Every morning, he would row across the lake to the town, to a place I could not follow. I had to take my private lessons in the manor. I was happy to have some time alone. Michael could be…tenacious with my attentions. Always near, touching me in some way, like I could disappear at any time. I could not. He was the one who disappeared every morning to learn and grow, and I was sorely jealous of that fact. I would accompany him to the dock every morning, watching as he would row away. I wanted to run into the water to go with him, and yet, I also wanted to run into the woods behind me, to escape forever.  
  
As long as I completed my lessons for the day, I could do as I pleased. My time was spent reading and wandering outside. It was different without Michael beside me, but I did feel as if I could let my guard down a bit. I could walk barefoot, climb trees, and run wildly. Sometimes, I would even slip out of my white dress and chemise and walk around the property naked. Things changed a little bit when Michael’s brother John was born. Mrs. Langdon insisted I come to her room every morning after seeing Michael off to school. She wanted me to play with John. To be honest, I never really cared for him, but I did it because I was indebted to Mrs. Langdon. I just wanted to get back outside. Sometimes I would find nests and burrows of animals. It would delight me to sit in the warm grass, naked, and watch the animals going about their daily routines as the sun would rise and set. This also allowed me to figure out where the lovely animals resided, so I could avoid those places when I would take walks with Michael.  
  
When the weather would not allow for walking in the nude, I would study art, poetry, and the books Michael would bring home from school. The Langdon’s loved to brag to their consorts about this. How they raised me so well. Learning was a way for me to take back control over my life, and to feel the same things that would arise when I walked in nature. I could not walk around naked in the manor. There were no tall trees, or wild animals to be found. So I studied.  
  
Once Mrs. Langdon had John, and Michael started to attend school, I assumed she would not need me as much. But she almost seemed more resigned that I spend my time with Michael. All of my time. When he was home, he would decide what we were going to study and read. Michael was the one who had originally taught me to read and write, so I felt it necessary that I let him take the reigns when deciding what subject to study each week. I would blush when he would brag to his parents and their friends about me. He would tell them how sharp my mind was, and how quickly I could learn. He would teach me how to be one of “good breeding,” and I would teach him to react to others calmly, and to smile in a way that was deemed acceptable. His cold edges began to blur around company because of my training. That’s all the Langdon’s ever wanted.  
  
One day, Michael and I were made aware that guests were to arrive at the manor. A new family who did not know of the Langdon’s. Mrs. Langdon’s face was discontent, while Mr. Langdon’s was searching. He stared at me and Michael to gauge our reactions, and then said something that confused me.  
  
“This family does not know us, or anything that happened at-“ _

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He suddenly stopped, staring at me. Mrs. Langdon’s head snapped to him like he was beginning to divulge an important secret.  
  
  
“They do not know us. So, everyone here must make sure things look presentable, yourselves included, and make sure that you are on your best behavior.” Michael was standing very still with his hands linked behind his back. His eyebrows were drawing together, and he looked uncomfortable, biting his lip, and taking glances at me. I grabbed his hand from behind his back.  
  
  
“Michael and I will perform a poem for them.” Michael smirked.  
“I do not recite poetry.”  
“I will perform it, then. And we can tell this new family how you taught me everything I know.” His cheeks flushed pink at this, and he smiled. Mr. Langdon nodded.  
“Mr. Grey is a merchant who has done uncommonly well for himself. He is quite wealthy. His son, Dorian, is about your age, Michael. He attends a school called Hawthorne. I have heard good things about it. Perhaps if you and Dorian get along, you can attend the better school with him.” Michael tensed, and clutched my hand tightly. I squeezed back, sensing he was panicking over some issue.  
“Can Michael and I be excused? We need to prepare.”  
  
  
We were given permission, and Michael essentially dragged me back to his room. Why he was shaking with rage, I did not understand. He was pacing back and forth, still holding my hand in a death grip.  
  
  
“What are they thinking?” he shouted. “How dare they invite strangers to our house. Acting as though they need to find companions for me. Acting as if I care at all!” I tenderly took my hand from his grasp.  
“Michael, think about being able to attend a top school like Hawthorne. You can only learn so much at that tiny school across the lake. But if you had access to more material, better material…”  
“You know that boys who go to Hawthorne have to stay there, right? They do not come home in the evening. They stay till Summer arrives.” He approached me in long strides and took my face in his hands. His long fingers curled behind my neck and rested on my nape. He looked into my eyes, searchingly. “I would never see you then.” His voice was lower and deeper than I had ever heard, proof he was becoming a man, growing into his beauty, his strength. I was taken aback, and I never wanted it to end.  
“No need to be thinking of me when it comes to your future.”  
“It displeases me to have to remind you, but I’m never not thinking of you.” I felt emotions of pleasure and excitement that I thought were long dead, suddenly revive. I wanted to allow myself to be taken away with these feelings in the center of my chest. I dared to be happy. Happiness was being dissolved into someone completely. He was bending closer to me. I could feel his breath on my lips. He lightly bumped his nose against mine, nuzzling against me until my eyes shut on their own accord. I felt his lips press to mine in a way that was totally childlike. I wanted to hold onto this moment for all of time. Even now, with his lips pressed against mine, the present moment was becoming the past. Things would change, people would suffer, the future was stretching away in front of us. I wondered if Michael felt the same about this moment. Was he happy? Did he want to keep this time imprisoned? Was he afraid?  
He moved back and stared at me, his hands still wrapped around my neck. He was looking for something in my eyes. I did not know what to say. I felt on edge, embarrassed. I wanted to seem as if I was unaffected, even though I was the furthest thing from that. I was barely in my body at all.  
  
“If you go to Hawthorne, you could get further in a month than you can get at your school.” Suddenly, the hands around my neck tightened, cutting off my air. I gasped.  
  
“SO YOU WANT TO BE SEPARATED FROM ME?!” His icy eyes flashed dark as his fingers pressed into my skin. I strained to get my voice out, whispering,  
“Never.” He let up. “But, I cannot go to school, so I need you to learn so you can come home, and teach me. You have to learn enough for the both of us.” I secretly wished that I would be allowed to go with him. I needed some space from his constant touches and attentions, but I did not want to be separated from him for long stretches of time. We had been inseparable since childhood, and I could not imagine that changing. But I wanted more. My life was suffocating. I needed to make sure Dorian and Michael got along. I also needed to think of a plan to get myself to Hawthorne, but I could focus on that later. One thing at a time.  
  
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I do not know what came over me.” He moved back away from me, though I wished he would have stayed. “Let’s go get ready, Michael.”  
  
Michael and I walked into the room holding hands to greet the Grey’s. I had changed into a light, white, silk dress, while Michael wore all black. I looked upon Dorian. He had a shy smile, but it was open, and seemed genuine. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and an innocent look about him. While Michael was made of sharp knife edges, Dorian was like a clear lake on a Summer day. I guess I would describe myself as a deception- a lovely red apple with a worm inside. Later, Michael would rant about how nauseating Dorian was. How he did not even try to hide his desperation to be our friend.  
  
"He would have crawled on his hands and knees like a dog if we would have asked him to,” he spit out. Dorian had a nice smile that lit up when he saw the manor’s “playroom.” It had a stage built into it to put on shows, and a large chest of clothing discarded from the theatre in town. He shuffled through the chest, and said,  
  
“Do you have any swords? We could put on a play!” Michael, who was standing by my side watching the strange boy, openly rolled his eyes in scorn. Dorian held up a black cape with extravagant pin clasps on the lapels.  
“Michael could be the king. He has that royal look about him. And you can be the queen, Y/N. I will be the knight.”

 _  
I whispered to Michael. “I like him. He is different than most sixteen-year-old boys. He’s…silly.” Michael visibly tensed, refusing to look at me. “And he obviously likes you, so that means he is intelligent.” I nudged Michael with my elbow. He finally smiled a bit. We let Dorian dress us up as royalty and put on a short show for our parents that I quickly wrote for the event. I stood between the two boys as the Langdon’s and the Grey’s praised us for our show. They were exaggerating, but it was different, so it was fun.  
_ ……………….  
  
I had another letter from Michael. It mentioned a Professor Behold, a man he bought books from, and wrote the occasional letter. I had asked around the town, until I had found him. He could offer me little about Michael’s whereabouts. His home was filled with the musty smell of old books. I loved it and was bitterly jealous. To be able to travel. To be labelled a student, and to study what you choose, when you choose.  
  
“He asked for books on chemistry. He would write me the strangest letters. They would be filled with the most absurd questions. I never knew exactly what he was talking about. But, I have not received one for over a year. I assumed he had moved on, to another university, or stopped university all together.” I became panicked. Michael wouldn’t have moved locations without telling me, would he? Even Dorian had sent me a final letter saying he could not help Michael, or bring him home, and that he was going to travel around for a bit. Dorian had gone quiet for a while.  
  
“Do you happen to have the address that Michael’s letters came from?”  
“I do, but I doubt it will be of use. A man named Dorian Grey came in here asking for the same thing. He visited it and informed me the property was vacant.”  
“And you do not remember anything else about your encounters with these men?”  
“It’s a miracle I remember even these tiny details. I only remember Dorian because he was so friendly, and Michael because of his….intensity. I found him very bright, and wanted to talk to him more, but I got the feeling he did not like me much.”  
“I can assure you he did like you. You were one of the professors he mentioned often to me. He is…odd and simply has an unusual mind.”  
“I hope he is doing well wherever he ended up. I loved his strange questions. I had never heard anything like them and doubt I will again. He was either a genius or a madman.” He laughed.  
“If you happen to hear anything, or remember anything, please contact me." I gave him the information to Myrtle’s home.  
“I will certainly do that. And if you hear from him first, please tell him to get into contact with me. I would love to talk to him again.”  
“I will.” I would most likely not do anything of the sort. Mallory had waited outside during this encounter. When I approached her, she could see the defeat in my eyes. She touched my shoulder to comfort me.  
  
“I’m sorry, Y/N. We tried. Maybe…we should go back home. We have no more information to go on. If Michael wanted to be found, he would write. You said yourself that he goes into dark moods that last awhile. Maybe he wants to be alone.” My jaw clenched. He did not get to make that choice. Not after I spent my whole life being what he needed to make him more normal to the world. Now I needed him, and I would find him. Mallory continued talking.  
  
“We know that Dorian found him. Maybe they went off on a journey together. Maybe they are exploring the world, and because of that, letters are delayed, or even getting lost in transit.” She was talking at a rapid pace, trying to convince me to go. I refused to believe that Michael would take Dorian on a trip around the world. Michael and I used to lie in bed at night and daydream about travelling the world together. I also knew that Dorian and Michael were not together. The last letter Dorian sent me….I could not see any way that things were reconciled between the two men. I did not want to get angry with Mallory, though I could feel it rising up, leaving a flush across my chest. I kissed her cheek.  
  
“I have one more place to look. Is that ok?” She sighed.  
“Where to now?”  
  
We arrived at the town’s library. I was overcome with the place and hoped to absorb the knowledge of all the tomes just by being in their presence. I was lightheaded with feeling and wanted to be alone. To dive into the worlds that were denied me. But there was no time. Mallory wanted to leave tonight. I could not go back to that home with Mr. Langdon rustling through the halls, insinuating that my presence was no longer necessary since his son did not live there any longer. I could not do that.  
A man approached Mallory and I.  
  
“Can I help you?”  
“I am looking for my cousin. He has recently moved, but we came here before receiving his letter with the new address.” I saw Mallory’s face turn towards mine, wondering why I was lying. “You see our dilemma. I am desperate to find him. Since he loves books so much, there is no way he did not visit this library at some point.”  
“What is his name?”  
“Michael Langdon.” His brows lifted in surprise.  
“I do know him. He would often be here from morning till sundown. A very odd, intense young man.”  
I smiled with excitement. “That’s him!”  
“Sadly, he has not been here in-“  
I interrupted him. “A year?”

“Well, more like six or seven months. You might try the bookseller a few streets over. He specializes in hard to obtain literature. I gave his name to Michael once.” I smiled at him, and he at me. I grabbed Mallory’s elbow, and practically ran out of the building. “Thank you, sir!”  
  
We rushed to the bookseller whose residence was in the shadows in a back alley. The door was heavy as I pushed into it. Mallory said,  
  
“Slow down.” I was filled with anxiety and hope. I took a deep breath as the door opened, making a chiming noise. The room was overwhelmingly filled with books. I heard a woman’s voice call to us, telling us she would be out shortly. I did not expect to hear a woman here. She appeared before us. Young, naturally pretty, with big, brown eyes, and lovely honey-colored hair. She had a pencil in her hair, holding it up. She wore all black and looked like an intelligent witch in the best way. I wanted to know her immediately. I smiled.  
  
“You were not who I was expecting…”  
“Who were you expecting?” A dour-faced man with raised brows at a firm voice, perhaps? She smiled back, and said,  
“I was not expecting you two either. The only people who come in here are professors and students. So, seeing two lovely faces on this gray day is splendid. What books did you need?”  
“I am actually looking for my cousin.” She tried to make a joke about how she did not sell cousins in this establishment, but seeing the desperate look in my eyes, she said,  
‘I was just about to close up for lunch. Would you two want to come with me, and talk about your cousin?” I was going to decline, as I wanted to make haste on my mission, but Mallory spoke up.  
“That would be really great. We’ve had such a strange time in this city.”  
  
She took us through the city, and of course, it was starting to drizzle again. I envied this unnamed woman who wore black, which would hide the stains of the city, while I was ruining my white dress. I had to wear white when I saw Michael again. He always wore black, and I wore white. We came upon a house. The woman unlocked the door and said,  
  
“Here we are!”  
“I thought we were going to a café.’  
“I can make better food for you. Plus, they are so overpriced. By the way, I am Cordelia.”  
“I am Y/N, and this is Mallory.”  
“Pleased to meet you both. Now, come inside.” She led us through a tiny home that was, of course, filled with the books. We were led up the stairs into a sitting room with a lit fire. We sat while Cordelia disappeared into the next room. Mallory got comfortable, while I perched on the edge of the chair.

  
  
“You look ready to run away, Y/N.” I looked into the fire, trying to calm my nerves. Cordelia returned with a tray of bread, roast chicken, and cheese slices. She then brought tea into the room. She sat and beamed at us both.  
  
“Now, what is your cousin’s name?”  
“Michael Langdon.” She stopped her tea-drinking right away.  
“Michael?”  
“I assume you’ve met.”  
“Yes. His buying habits financed many of my trips abroad. I saw him last month, to be exact. My Uncle adored him. I swear, my Uncle would adopt him if Michael would let him. He even told Michael that him and I should marry.” She laughed. I did not like Cordelia. Not at all. I set my teacup down, my tongue pushed to the side of my mouth. She must have noticed my reaction.  
  
“No need to fear. I have enough books to keep me company. I would never survive a person like Michael.” Michael did take up a large chunk of one’s life, and time. I should know. And when he left, the vacant spaces he once filled became overtly painful and empty. I did not quite trust Cordelia, but I did need her desperately.  
“Do you know where Michael is?” She hesitated. Looking into my eyes.  
“I just realized I do not know you. I have no idea what you might want with Michael, and because of the happenings of the last few months, I need to be wary.”  
“What has happened the last few months?” The sound of Myrtle hastily locking the doors in the home came to mind.  
“People have been going missing. A sailor, a homeless man, even a child. People here are definitely concerned.”  
“I assure you I am here to do no harm to Michael. He has been gone two years..”  
“Since his Mother died.”  
“Yes. That was the catalyst. He came here to go to the university. I have not heard word from him in months. He gets into these moods, and can forget to care for himself properly, and I just wanted to make sure all is well.”  
“He is your close cousin, but you do not know his address?”  
“Our friend Dorian came here to find him, but…” This woman was putting me on edge. Men I could handle, but Cordelia was catching every snag in my story with ease.  
“Did Dorian not report back with his findings?”  
“He did, but he didn’t actually give us the address.”  
“And you cannot write to Dorian and ask for the address?”

“Dorian left for England soon after finding Michael.” I realized I had told Mallory that Dorian was still here. I could not look at her right now. I felt terrible for lying to her, but I needed answers. “You can imagine how tiring this trip has been.” Suddenly, Mallory spoke up.  
  
“You told me he was here.”  
“He was….up until about six months ago.” I finally looked over, expecting to see her anger, but found only hurt on her face.  
In a low voice, she said, “Why did you not tell me?”  
“I knew you would worry. I’m sorry I did not tell you, but I needed you to come with me. I need you. I cannot do this alone.” She lowered her gaze.  
“You should have told me, Y/N.” I reached out to her, pulling her to me. She came, reluctantly.  
“I’m sorry. I was selfish. I was so worried about Michael, I could not think straight.” She nodded into my neck. Cordelia had been watching our conversation with interest. I looked at her.  
  
"You know how men are. They do not care to leave us to worry. They don’t even think of it.”  
“I do know. My uncle has not sent word for months. It is vexing. Michael is an odd young man. He was a little bit rude, and always treated me in a …haughty manner. I thought he was just acting this way with me because of my sex, but soon learned he treats everyone this way. I haven’t seen him here in a few months, but I do have a delivery of his that just came in. The address may not be current, but-“  
“Please give it to me! I will deliver it.” Cordelia sighed, getting up from her seat.  
“I will have to take you to it. It’s not in a safe part of town.”  
Mallory laughed. “No parts of this town are safe.”  
“Plus, I am curious. I want to know what is keeping Michael from writing to two concerned friends.”  
…………….  
  
_As I grew up in the Langdon household, I became what they wanted me to be. Never disobeying, or asking for too much. I dreaded the day that they wouldn’t need me anymore, and I would be thrown out. Mrs. Langdon spent most of her days laying in bed, and Mr. Langdon did not talk to me at all, and barely looked at me. Michael was my main companion. He was odd, but he never bit me, or hit me like the children of my caretaker. He was never overtly cruel to me. He would touch me a lot, and try to keep me close. He watched me a lot. Looking at my reactions to things he said or did, but I never showed anything but love towards him. At first it was fake, I wore my mask well. But, eventually, I did come to love him.  
  
The night after the Grey’s visited us for the first time was a particularly rough night. I had been brushing my hair in my room when I heard loud screaming. On first instinct, I thought to hide. But, people in nice manor’s with good breeding did not hide from screams, did they? I couldn’t fall back to my old, rabbit-heart ways. I went out of my room, and slowly crept down the dark hall. As I went down the stairs, I could hear Michael’s voice. It was twisted with rage in a way I had never heard it before. It made me pause on the steps. His voice was coming from the library. I slowly walked to the door, and quietly pushed it open. Michael’s back was to me. The room was a disaster. There was torn books and broken glass littering the floor. His chest heaved as he screamed- a sound more animal than anything human. He had a letter opener in his hand. His parents were pressed against the wall in front of him, their faces frozen in fear. Mr. Langdon’s eyes met mine. They were silently pleading with me to stop Michael, like it was my responsibility. He never looked at me. It was shocking to be pinned under his gaze.  
  
Instinct took over. I slowly approached Michael while making a low sound in my throat to let him know I was there. His back visibly tensed as I put my fingers on the back of his neck, gently. His breaths started to calm as he leaned into my touch. He turned around slowly. I looked up into his eyes. They were bloodshot and dilated. His face was red with the tears that had been pouring out onto his fair skin.  
  
“Hello,” I said. He looked at me with immense pain on his face. I put my hand on his forehead, trying to erase the tension I saw there.  
  
“Y/N.” He looked down, unable to meet my gaze any longer. I took the letter opener from his hand and put it in my pocket. I took his hand.  
  
“We should go upstairs and read.” He nodded and waited for me to lead the way, biting his lip. I lead him upstairs, and we sat on his bed. I stared at him, while he stared at the floor. I broke the silence.  
  
“What happened down there, Michael.” He shifted his eyes to me, then looked back down. “I don’t know. There is something happening to me…something I don’t understand. I put on a certain face for my parents, a certain face for society, and a different one altogether with you. Who am I? I am bewildered as to which one is the true me. I sometimes think I am just evil. But, even demons have friends in their pits of hell. I am alone. I’m a monster.” “You aren’t alone. I am here with you.” How could I put into words how much I cared? “You are not a monster. And even if it were so, I would be a monster with you. We could be monsters together, cut off from the world, but we would always have eachother.”  
  
He looked emotional about my proclamation. “Y/N, I am not right…goodness is becoming more difficult as time goes on. I’m at odds with everything. I don’t belong anywhere-“ I stopped him, and held out my arms for him. He came to me like a young boy. It was strangely intimate, holding his large frame against mine.  
  
“Do you like that boy, Y/N?” “What boy?” “You know what boy. Dorian.” He said his name like it was disgusting to him. Was Michael Langdon…jealous? “I don’t even know him.” Michael’s hand crept up and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was making me feel things I hadn’t before, and I did not know how to deal with these feelings. His low voice rumbled against my breastbone._

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“You don’t want to have this conversation, do you?” He pressed a kiss to my chest. I couldn’t speak. “It feels like you’re about to run away.” That did cross my mind. He smirked against my skin. “I love you.” I felt stupid that I was currently stuck in this state where I could not think of the right words to say, or how to act. He raised his head and brushed his lips over my jawline and put his large hands on my waist.  
  
“Are you scared, angel?” My voice came back to me, indignant.  
“I’m not scared.” He let go of me and pushed himself to the other side of the bed, leaning up against the wall.  
  
“Ok.” His eyes looked playful. I laid down at the end of the bed on my back, staring at the ceiling. He was watching me. I could feel it. I grabbed his quilt from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around myself. I wasn’t very cold, but I just wanted something to break the tension. It did not.  
  
“Come here.” This is not a question, or request. I do not move fast enough. He leans over and starts tugging me and the blanket up the bed towards him. His hands wrap around me.  
  
“What are you doing, Michael?”  
“I said, come here, Y/N.” He stared into my eyes as he lifted me and quilt onto his lap at the top of the bed.  
“On the day I met you, I knew right away that you were mine. Are you mine, Y/N?” His face was right against mine, his hands around my wrists. I felt delirious when I leaned my face up and kissed his jaw.  
“Is that a yes?” His voice is rough and low. I shiver.  
“Yes,” I whisper against his face. All of a sudden, I see that Michael has the letter opener. When did he pull it from my pocket? I jerk away from him, but his grip on my wrist doesn’t let me get far. His eyes look cold.  
  
“Are you going to kill me?” His face brightens.  
“Now, why would I do a silly thing like that?” I look at the letter opener. He smiles, clearly getting a tiny bit of joy out of my fear. He situates me on his lap. I swear I feel something hard underneath me, and I gasp when I realize what it is.  
“Does it really matter if I kill you? Maybe this is all just a dream anyway. Maybe you’re dreaming me, and I’m dreaming you, and we only exist in those dream worlds. Or, maybe I should kill you for liking Dorian so much. For being a puppet to his insufferable whims of fancy.”  
“If you love me, you would not hurt me.” He becomes serious then.  
“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is raised, and he sounds annoyed.  
“Give me your hand.” I hesitate. He grabs my hand roughly.  
  
“The hell I suffer seems a heaven.” He quotes ‘Paradise Lost’ to me. A book I read to him over a week of Summer last year. I did not know he was even listening that closely. I gasp when he runs the letter opener across my hand, making a small cut. He proceeds to cut his hand, and then smashes our hands together. He uses his other hand to grip my chin and turn my face towards him. His eyes look dark, almost black.

  
“Michael, this isn’t normal…”  
“We’re nothing like normal, Y/N.” He bounces his leg up harshly, and I feel a thunder bolt of pleasure as I grip his bloody hand in mine.  
“Y/N, if you ever run away, I will find you.” He grabs me by the shoulders, and in less than a second, I am on my back on his bed. He straddles me and grabs my bloody hand. Licking up my palm. Blood coats his lips, and the fact that it’s beautiful to me, and is doing things to me that I can’t explain, makes me feel guilty. He looks possessed as he stares straight into my eyes. I push him off roughly, he falls off the bed, landing on his back on the floor. I jump over him, race out the door, down the hall, and into my room. I slam the door and lock it.  
  
Breathing harshly, I pull my legs up to my chest. I turn over my bloody palm. Me and Michael’s blood still paints the skin. I take a small lick of it, and then clean it completely with my tongue. I don’t know why I do it, or why I feel a wet sensation between my legs, coating my thighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to 'Cinnamon Girl' by Lana Del Rey alot while writing this. I feel like the reader would connect with that song.  
> Also, I am already in the process of writing chapter 4. I just started at a new university, and it's stressing me out so much!  
> I will probably post it tomorrow. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. I know I had a fun time writing it. There is some business with a letter opener at the end, so read at your own discretion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Dark vibe, Michael is kind of a dick, smutty-ish activity? 
> 
> More of reader and Michael as teenagers. Reader finds who she is searching for.

**“The young men were born with knives in their brain.”  
**

**-Ralph waldo emerson**

Cordelia lead us through the streets of the strange town. I would almost find it beautiful if I did not feel so ill at ease. Why did it feel like the dark building’s spires were looming over us so? Why did I feel as if, not only were the gargoyles etched into the church’s face watching us, but the angels too?

“Maybe God will look upon us today, and we will finally find Michael,” said Mallory. If God was looking now, that meant he always had been. Always watching, and always doing nothing. If that were true, I wanted naught to do with him or his creed. I would find help for myself, like always. I would not repent. 

As we edged towards the end of the city, and towards a large river, I thought I heard the faraway scream from the night before. I immediately stilled and held my breath. Mallory and Cordelia did not give any hint that they heard what I did, so I loosened the death clutch around myself, and tried to relax. It was getting darker, and I couldn’t help but wish for the security of a warm, dry place with a fire. I was unbelievably nervous. What could I offer Michael now, but my love? I tried to push certain thoughts to the back of my mind. What if he did not want it? What if he found someone new, like those fraught times at Hawthorne school? I needed to make him remember. I needed to be strong. 

Cordelia was asking Mallory questions about her work as the Langdon’s governess, and Mallory, of course, was responding enthusiastically. I noticed that the surroundings of the town were getting worse the further we got. The buildings looked abandoned, and drunk men and women were perched everywhere. Mallory pushed herself closer to me.

“Why would Michael live out here?” Cordelia answered her.  
“A lot of students live out here. The rent is cheaper, and you can get a larger space. People also tend to come out here if they do not want to be found.”  
“Michael is not hiding from me, if that is what you are insinuating. He just wants to be alone for a bit. Most people do not understand.”  
“He’s lucky to have you. Since you understand.” Her smile was infuriating. My feelings towards Cordelia shifted so fast in the last couple of hours that it made me dizzy. 

“We’re here. It’s that building over there.” Cordelia pointed to an ugly building on the edge of the river. The building had three floors. Windows were only present on the third. All the windows on the third floor were perched open. I could see curtains swinging in the breeze. Mallory looked afraid, and I honestly could not blame her. I felt an ominous chill go up my spine.

“You shouldn’t go in there.” A man was leaning against the building adjacent to Michael’s. “It’s a bad place.” 

I spoke up. “Is it? It seems like this whole town is a bad place. This one is probably not much different.”  
“It is different. We all hear things about this place. There is something in there. Not human.”  
“What’s that?” 

He crooked his finger at me, asking me to come closer. I did slowly. When I approached him, I could smell the alcohol on him. He was slightly swaying back and forth, which was not too smart considering he was just a pace away from falling into the river behind him. All that was keeping him up was his slight lean against this rickety old building. He beckoned me closer still. I put my face near his, and he suddenly screamed. I jumped in shock, while he started loudly laughing at my fear. He was swaying heavily now, and I took my chance, lightly knocking my elbow into him. He fell into the river, and it was delightful. Mallory and Cordelia ran up. 

“Oh no! What if he cannot swim? Someone should help him,” Mallory said. 

“Did you see how much energy he used to scream at me? Based on that, I assume he will be just fine.” 

Angrily, I stepped away from the bank, and made my way to Michael’s “home.” I turned the knob, which opened without preamble. I immediately smelled blood, and something rotten. I went through the door, holding my hand over my nose. Mallory and Cordelia stepped inside, and having the same reaction as me, covered their faces as well. 

“This place could be dangerous. We need to stay together, girls,” Cordelia said. I turned towards the open doorway and pointed outside.

“Oh my god, I think that man from the river DOES need help.” Cordelia and Mallory immediately went outside to offer assistance. I slammed the door shut and locked it.

……………………………….

_During our teenage years, Dorian, Michael, and I began to grow closer. I loved Michael more as the years went on. To me, Michael’s love seemed rare, and in turn, seemed valuable to me. He did not just give his affections away to anyone. I cannot lie and say I did not love Dorian as well. Not in the same way, of course, but Dorian’s openness to the world was endearing. I loved having both of their attentions focused on me. I felt at ease for the first time in my life. Dorian would continue to write plays for us to act out. Michael thought we were getting too old for it, but I loved the times when we could be someone else for a period._

_One morning, we were rehearsing a scene about a queen who was put into a magical sleep. I was the queen, while Dorian and Michael were princes that were sent to rescue me from my slumber. Dorian approached my body, and I felt him kneel down beside me._

_“She is more beautiful than I ever imagined! Only true love’s kiss will break the spell.” I felt his breath on my lips as he softly kissed me. I was taken aback, as the kiss was not written. I opened my eyes to see that Dorian had the same shocked look on his face. I did not want to look at Michael’s face. I could already feel a strange energy invading the room and clutching around it like a fist. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to be deep in sleep’s embrace once again. I felt another body approach and kneel down._

__

_“She is not asleep, little Prince,” Michael said. His voice sounded different, edged with glass. He lifted my wrist and dropped it just as suddenly. “There is no life in her at all. She’s dead.” I felt him trace his finger from my wrist, up my arm, and over my neck. His thumb traced my bottom lip. My eyes fluttered at the contact. Michael put his lips to my ear, and whispered,_

_“Be still.” Suddenly, a cold sensation at my neck._

_“My knife will now examine whether she is in fact dead, or if she merely sleeps.” I felt arms pull me up swiftly._

_“MICHAEL! YOU CANNOT DO THAT!” I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Dorian’s. He was pulling me back and away from Michael, who kneeled where he was before. I looked into his eyes as they shifted up from his place on the floor. They looked darker that I had ever seen, filled with an anger I did not know how to soothe._

_“Do you not want to know what’s under the surface?” Dorian’s face could not hide his confusion at the statement._

_Michael smirked, and laughed lightly, but there was no happiness to the sound._

_“Of course. You only see or care about what’s right in front of you. You have no wish to go deeper, and that makes you so fucking dull.” He played with the edge of the knife._

_“I have a theory that if I cut you, there would be blood, but not much else…..You can simply take one look upon your beautiful face and see there is simply…nothing…..there.” He punctuated his last words with a flick of his wrist. He finally moved his glacial eyes from Dorian to me._

_“Y/N does not mind, you know. She likes when I cut her. Y/N, come here and give me your hand.” Dorian held me tighter. Memories of being on Michael's lap in his room flew through my mind._

_“No, Michael. You cannot do that. You cannot go around cutting people.” Dorian seemed confused, staring between us, tears building in his eyes. I pulled myself out of Dorian’s arms. I could not risk staying there, though I did feel slight shame about my actions. I went to Michael, and leaned down, kissing his cheek. I put my arm through his, helping him up._

_“Dorian, he was only playing with you. No need to take anything to heart.” I laughed uneasily. “Besides, you are the one who ruined it by kissing me. That’s not in the script. You-“_

_Michael interrupted me._

_“I’m done playing this game with you, Dorian. It’s tedious, and below me. You can leave now.”_

_I did not want Dorian to be sent away. A year ago, the cook had given Michael food that had made him sick for days. After that, the cook was just gone, and we never saw her again. I did not want the same thing to happen to Dorian. I did not know what to say to fix the situation. He started to walk away. I pulled away from Michael._

_“I will walk him to the dock.” Michael pulled me back._

_  
“No. He can see himself out.” I pulled again, and without looking back, I said,_

_“It will only take a minute.” I ran to catch up with Dorian, knowing I had upset Michael, but I would just have to deal with that later._

_I followed Dorian to the dock. He stopped walking and grabbed my arm._

_“Y/N, I’m sorry. I do not really know what I did wrong to make him react as he did. Except for….I’m sorry I kissed you….It was just make believe…”_

_“Dorian, you cannot do that again. Please.” His face looked disappointed._

_“Can I ask you something? And will you answer truthfully?” I nodded._

_“Are you happy here? Living with the Langdon’s?” I flinched like I had been hit. I knew he saw, and it angered me that, still, after all this time, I could not hide certain things._

_“Why would you ever ask me that?”_

_“It’s just…sometimes…I feel like you are reading lines off a script. What do you actually feel? More and more you are becoming like…Michael’s little mockingbird. Are you scared to speak up? Because you can talk to me-”_

_“Do you understand that before the Langdon’s, I had nothing?”_

_“Yes, of course-“_

_“No, I don’t think you do understand, or you would never have asked me such a question. What if I’m not happy? What would you, or any man, do? This is my home.” I could feel myself losing control, so I reeled it back a bit. “I am happy here. I thought you were too. Why else would you come here so often?”_

_Worry was written all over his face. I hugged him tightly, breath leaving his mouth in a gasp of surprise._

_“I know I am happier when you are here, Dorian. Please, never leave.”_

_“I won’t, Y/N…..I promise.” He pushed my shoulders back and stared at me. He wanted to say something more, but didn’t, instead walking towards the dock, and his boat home. I waved as he left. I was not doing a good job of balancing these two forces- Michael and Dorian. I had to be more careful. If I lost Dorian’s love, it would hurt, but losing Michael’s was simply unacceptable._

_As I made my way back into the house, I heard a cry. It was John. He was supposed to be asleep downstairs with the nursemaid. The Langdon’s were in town. Michael was God knows where after the conversation with Dorian. I rushed downstairs and was met with a bloody scene that I could barely comprehend. John was on the floor crying, holding his arm. Upon further glance, I saw blood dripping to the floor, and bone protruding slightly from the skin. My eyes widened in shock, and I gasped again when I noticed Michael sitting in the chair in the corner of the room._

_He was staring at the scene with wide eyes. His chin on his hand. A knife was on the floor between our bodies. Michael looked at me, brows furrowed, and tears falling. I knew I had to help John and figure out a way that this would not be blamed on Michael. If the Langdon’s knew I could not control Michael, they would send me away. I had one job here._

_I picked up the knife, and opened the window, throwing it out into the rain. I became alarmed when I noticed John was no longer screaming. He was breathing deeply, and the pallor of his face….it did not look good. Where was the nursemaid? I went through all the rooms downstairs, and she was nowhere to be found, though her bags of clothes were still in her room. I took her sewing supplies and went back to John. Both boys were where I had left them. I touched John’s head, wiping his sweaty hair back from his face._

__

_“John, you should not have played with the scissors. You see what happens? You cut yourself." He whimpered against my hand. I looked at Michael._

_“Michael, go and get the kettle. I need to wash this wound before I close it.”_

_As he retreated, I got the sewing scissors out of the nursemaid’s bag, dipped them in the blood on the floor, and threw them down. When Michael came back with the water, I washed the wound as John cried. I told Michael to hold the skin together while I sewed it shut. Both boys were silent. It seemed as if John had gone into shock. Michael seemed fascinated and watched my work closely. I was ok with sewing clothing, but it seemed as if I was better at sewing up skin. I then used towels to bound up his arm tightly, hoping that it was good enough until his parents could come and take him to town._

_I took John into my arms and went and sat in the chair Michael had been occupying. I rocked him, and he fell into the strange sleep that those who are wounded experience._

_“I should learn to sew. That's the next thing I want you to teach me,” Michael said to me._

_“Now is hardly the time.”_

_“Y/N. I can explain what happened.”_

_“I know what happened. The nursemaid left her sewing bag out, and John got into it. As you can see, she is still nowhere to be found. She should be punished.” I looked in Michael’s eyes, hoping he understood that this was the story that we were going with. “She is lazy and should be relieved of her duties. Nothing like this will ever happen again. Right?”_

_Michael nodded, biting his bottom lip, and looking at me thoughtfully. When the Langdon’s came home, and heard of the situation, they praised me, all the while staring at Michael suspiciously. He sat, reading a book, paying no mind to their glances._

_Later, after I washed the blood off my hands, and got changed into proper night attire, I heard curious talk while passing the Langdon’s room. It was Michael’s father talking to his Mother._

_“I don’t believe Y/N. She’s a little deceiver, she always has been. She frequently lies for Michael.”_

_"You do not know what happened. We were not here. You cannot place every accident on Michael’s shoulders. You should be thankful Y/N was here. Without her, who knows what would have happened to John!” I was too shocked to listen any longer._

_I made my way to Michael’s room, and barged in without knocking. He was laying in bed, reading. He raised his eyebrow at my intrusion._

_“Y/N.” When I just stared at him with my arms crossed, he smirked slightly, lowering his book to his lap._

_“Do you know how many burdens you are constantly placing upon my shoulders? Your parents think I am a liar. Your father just called me a ‘deceiver.’” Michael shifted his eyes. He seemed to be deep in thought, pondering my words. He looked up again._

_  
“But, you are MY little deceiver, right?” He smiled. I was taken aback by his lack of attention or care to my problems._

_“You know, you never even let me explain what actually happened, Y/N.”_

_“It doesn’t matter. You never tell me the truth anyway.” Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I had never been this honest with Michael before, afraid he would stop caring about me, and I would lose my home. “I am just here to clean up your messes. It’s pathetic, Michael, and I’m truly getting sick of it.”_

_I turned towards the door, and had just made it out into the hall, when the air was knocked out of me by Michael throwing me into the wall with his hand around my neck. His whole body was shaking with rage._

_“I would advise you to stop talking, dearest, or I’ll shut your mouth permanently.”_

_He steps back from my body, and makes a silent command with his head, telling me to get back inside his room. I was in shock as I walked towards his bed. I sat down, feeling as if my legs were too shaky to stand anymore. I was fearful of him for the first time. After that previous encounter in his room, where he cut me, and made me feel good at the same time, I no longer knew what to expect from my oldest friend. I was pulled out of my thoughts. Michael was there suddenly, leaning over me, bracing his hands on either side of my body, face level with mine._

_“Your attitude is way too big for someone who is basically a guest here.” My anger and sadness were reaching a boiling point. We had never talked to eachother like this, and it was making me feel unhinged, and unlike myself._

_“A guest? Maybe I should just leave. Leave you here to deal with your own problems for once.”_

_“You’re fucking pathetic, Y/N. We both know that I don’t have to worry about you leaving. Let’s get one thing straight, you would be lost without me. Admit it.” He was pressing light kisses to my jawline. How he could twist hate and love in this way, and make it feel like an undeserved, yet beautiful gift, I would never understand._

_“And what would your life be without me, Michael? We’re the same. You may think I’m pathetic, but you love me, just like I love you. If I tried to leave tomorrow, would you let me? Could you even bear it?” I wanted to give him even stronger words, but I knew they were things I could not say. I would be his slave if he wanted, and that was too pathetic to admit._  
In a whisper, he said,  
“Maybe I want you to feel weak like you’ve made me. Before you came here, I was fine with life as it was. I may not have had friends, but I did not feel like I was constantly being…. tested, or like I had to prove my worth. I definitely never cared about any female.” He bit his lip, and tried to catch my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him. 

_“Why did you make me care, Y/N? Why did you do that to me?” He was searching for my eyes again._

_“Look at me,” he commanded. He leaned back, and then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me. He took my hands._

_“I love you, Y/N. You’re the only person who actually sees me. I doubt you love everything you see, but you still see all of me, just the same. If you choose to keep loving me, in whatever way, you need to accept that we’re going to have a strange life. That comes with the territory in regards to myself. But, I do love you, my stupid one.”_

__

_I still couldn’t meet his eyes. My soul felt like it had been punctured, and I was afraid of what was next for us. He put his fingers under my chin and forced my eyes to his._

_“I did not mean what I said about you being a guest here. Clearly, I didn’t mean it. You are my only true companion, and the only person I care about. I am yours, Y/N.”_

_I clasped my hands over his._

_“I love you so much.” For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob._

_“And you’ll always love me, won’t you? And the dark times won’t make any difference?”_

_“Of course not, Michael.”_

_He smiled, and it was tinged by our shared history, and a hope for a certain kind of future. He kissed me roughly on the mouth, and whispered “I love you,” against my lips, like a curse. Surprising me, he got on the bed, straddling my waist and forcing me to lay back. He leaned down, brushing his nose against mine before claiming my lips once again. The kiss was slower, and deeper, and I was stunned into silence, but not by fear this time, but love. He started trailing his lips down my neck._

_“That’s right, Y/N. Keep quiet. You spoke a lot of big words today, but you can go ahead and keep your mouth shut now. Let me take control. You need to…recover your energy.”_

_He was at my collarbone now, I could feel him smirking against it._

_“I like playing with you. I could feel how scared you were last time…in my room.”_

_“I wasn’t scared. I was-” I replied breathlessly._

_“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Not anymore.” He started sucking my collarbone and the sensations shut up any retort I may have had. That and his scent alone were making me feel like I was under a spell. I would be lying if I said I did not imagine, while lying in bed at night, what it would feel like to have his mouth on my body. These images my brain created would have me touching myself all over, trying to find a spark somewhere. The first time I found that area between my legs, I thought of Michael everytime, of what it would feel like to have his fingers there, instead of my own._

_He suddenly pushed himself onto his forearms, and then got completely off me. He moved back on the bed, and sat against the headboard, just like the previous time I was in his room. He patted his lap. I got up and started to make my way towards him. Before I could decide upon anything, he grabbed my hips and maneuvered me until I was sitting with his thigh between my legs. I balanced myself with my hands on his chest and sat down the rest of the way. He was so beautiful with his slightly curly blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, and his pink lips. The way we kissed had made them even bigger. He was divine._

_I decided to act recklessly. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. His hands dove underneath my nightgown, to my thighs. He was holding me tightly by the back of my upper thighs. It was so close to where I wanted him. It was especially thrilling, as I did not put on undergarments that night, and I was desperate for him to notice, and terrified at the same time. He bit my lip, and I gasped, at which point, his tongue entered my mouth, surprising me with the new sensation. The kiss was rough, almost bordering on too much, but I chalked that up to both of us being inexperienced. Suddenly, his hand on the back of my thigh twisted just a bit, which led to his finger coming into contact with my unclothed core. He pulled back from my lips, and strangely, he looked afraid. And something else. Very intense. He leaned back even further and used his hands to push back slightly on my hips. He flipped up my nightgown. I felt heat from my embarrassment rise on my cheeks as he took in the fact that below my nightgown, I was bare. He just stared. Would he ever stop? Would he ever say anything? I noticed a slight tremble in his lips, and I was glad that he was at least a little affected._

_"Why have you been hiding this from me?” He said, as he took his finger and ran it from the bottom of my folds to the top._

_My head fell back on its own accord, and my eyes closed at his touch. It felt completely different from when I touched myself. It felt all consuming. When I could open my eyes again, I saw that Michael was watching me intensely. Upon making eye contact, he pressed his whole palm over my center, and I made a noise between a gasp and a whimper- a noise that was foreign to me. When he removed his hand, I acted on instinct and slid myself from his thigh onto the center of his lap. The groan he made when my body met with his was better than any sound I ever imagined in my head. My stomach was clenching, and I barely noticed that I had started to roll my hips over him. I looked at Michael. His eyes were closed, and his head was against the wall. His large hands went to my hips, helping me move. I softly pressed my lips to his neck, while anchoring my hands to his shoulders. His hands were back under my dress in an instant, gripping onto my ass and pulling me into him harder. His hips were shifting up, while mine were moving forward. I could feel how wet my thighs were becoming. I was too embarrassed to think about what my body was doing to his completely clothed lap. I was glad for the privacy that his neck allowed me in this moment. I was biting onto his neck, and my lip, as hard I could, trying to contain every sound that was building inside me. Suddenly, he pushed my head back, and kissed me hard. His voice was deeper than I had ever heard it._

_“Come on. Let me hear you.” He started to build up the speed and pressure, and I bit my lip hard, my head dropping to his shoulder, as a loud, desperate sound came out of my mouth._

_“No, Y/N. Look at me.” I kept my head down. He bit my shoulder hard, causing me to cry out._

_“Look at me, baby.” He was pushing me harder into him now._

_Sparks were moving up my spine, throughout my form in a way I had never experienced, and my whole body was in a tremble. His lips were on my own again, and he was all but growling into my mouth. The drag of my wet body against his hard lap, along with his lips on mine, and his warm hands pushing and pulling on such an intimate place- I was losing control fast. My thighs started to shake, and the shame about how loud I was being disappeared completely as warmth spread throughout my whole body. Michael’s lips let go of mine, and he said,_

_“Let go, Y/N. Fall,” as an electric bolt of feeling spread down my spine, and then across my entire body._

_My mouth was open in a silent scream, as Michael pulled down my face and pushed his lips against mine, swallowing any sounds I made. As I was catching my breath, his lips moved to my neck, while his hands were caressing my body from my sides, down to my hips, to my thighs, and back up again. I looked down, and saw the obvious wetness coating his pants, and the fact that his erection remained. I must have flushed, but when Michael looked down, he seemed amused, smirking slightly. Suddenly, his hands grab my waist lifting me up and back until I was pressed to his bed. He was above me, his hand braced by my head as he pulled my body between his legs. He leaned down to my ear and whispered,_

_“You fall apart so pretty, Y/N,” before roughly kissing me._

_Our teeth knock together from the intensity. I put my hands through his hair, scratching my nails on his scalp and neck, while his hands move to put my legs around his waist. His hands were everywhere- spreading wide on the backs of my thighs, sliding through the wetness that remained. He pulled down the front of my nightgown until the tops of my breasts were exposed. He dragged the garment until I felt cold air hitting my nipples, and before I could feel too ashamed, his mouth closed around one, and I arched into him. I heard him unzip his pants. When I looked down, I saw that he was touching himself, stroking himself fast over my body. He pulled my nightgown even lower, moving over to the next breast, suctioning skin as he went, laving his tongue up my chest until he could pull the next peak into his mouth. His teeth scraped against it, and my eyes fluttered closed. I feel something wet hit my thighs as Michael groaned low in his throat and released my nipple with an obscene sound that makes my body heat up for more than one reason. He slowly leaned back up, and fixed both of our clothing._

_The silence felt comfortable, and intense at the same time. He fell on his back next to me and pulled the blankets over us. We laid shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling, and did not speak the rest of the night. I was disappointed. Something so intimate had happened between us, and I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t even face him. I wanted to say, you calm me. You make everything better and brighter. You make the wounds in my soul and heart almost feel like they can be mended completely. But I said nothing. I fell into a deep sleep at one point. When I woke up, it was to Michael running his fingertips up my side. My back was pressed into his chest. I felt his lips softly meet my ear as he whispered,_

_“I’m sorry.”_

........................... 

After locking the women out- I would have to apologize to them later- I made my way through the dark house to the sound of their pounding on the door. I decided to check the first level of the building before going upstairs. There was a long room that looked as if it could be a kitchen. It had a table, chairs, and a sink stacked with dishes. Papers littered the floor, as did ripped up books. I picked up the first book under my foot and turned over to the cover. It was a book on human anatomy. I dropped it back to the ground. These rooms smelled less like blood and death, and gave off a damp, underused smell, like antiques. There was a bucket on the floor collecting water dripping from the ceiling. As I reached the end of the dwelling, I saw a small bed pushed into the corner. It was covered by a mound of blankets. There was a hand peeking through. I would recognize those long, graceful fingers anywhere. My Michael was finally in the same room with me after so many years. 

My breath caught in my chest as I went to the bed and took the wrist in my hand. _Please do not let it be cold._ I took his wrist between my fingers and felt his life force pumping through the warmth. I kissed it, noticing how hot it felt to the touch. Not just hot but scorching. I pulled back the blankets to see Michael sleeping on his stomach, completely naked. His honey-colored hair hung past his shoulders, longer than I had ever seen it. I touched his forehead. He was feverish. Sweat poured off of his body in rivulets. I had seen him this way before. I was always the one that took care of him in these states. It made me melancholy to think that he was all alone with no one to look after him. Dorian! He was supposed to be here with Michael. Where did he go? Why would he abandon us? Why would he leave Michael, especially when he knew that he should not be left on his own for long stretches of time. 

I stroked Michael’s damp cheeks. His lips were partially open, his breathing was deep. 

“Michael.” I pushed his shoulder, and still no response. I looked around the room, making sure nothing that was alarming was visible, before returning to the front of the house, and unlocking the door. I opened it to two very angry faces. Cordelia pushed through. 

“What makes you think you have the right to lock us out?” 

“I’m sorry to you both, but neither of you have the responsibility that I do towards him. I wanted to make sure everything was alright before you came in.” 

“You could have just expressed that instead of lying, and shutting us out, no?” 

“Michael has a very bad fever. He needs a doctor. Do you know of one?” 

Cordelia stared at me with distrust in her large eyes. 

“I do. I could take Mallory with me to go fetch him-“ 

“That would be very smart!” I interrupted. “What would I do without you two?”

As they went off to get the doctor, I went back inside, locked the door, and made my way back to Michael. I found clothes near his bed. I would need to try to make him look a little presentable before the doctor arrived. I got a cold rag from the kitchen and came back to sit on the bed near Michael. I pressed the rag to his forehead. 

"Do you see how much you need me, silly boy?” I noticed his eyes were fluttering. He was whispering something in his delirious state. 

“What, Michael? What are you saying?” I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was not aware it was me in the room with him. I leaned closer to his lips. 

“Dorian, do not tell Y/N.” Tears were running down his eyes. “Please. It worked. Do not tell her.” His eyes shut again, and he shifted around. A key was underneath his body. I put it in my pocket just in case. What was hiding from me? If it was too serious, Dorian would have written me about it, wouldn't he? Faint distrust curled around my spine. 

Though it was an immense struggle, I managed to get his shirt and pants on him. I went back to the front of the house. There was a door there that I had not entered yet. I got the strange feeling that I shouldn’t. I should just leave it alone. The putrid smell seemed to be coming from this place. I was terrified of what I would find. Then again, if there was something terrible back there, I needed to find it, and fix the problem before anyone else discovered it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. My professors are giving so much work lately, and it is shaking me to the core. I am actually writing chapter 5 right now, because I need Michael and Reader to have a talk when he wakes up. 
> 
> I could not figure out definitively whether the word ‘fuck’ was used in this time period. There are a ton of different theories on it. So, I am just going to use it haha. A lot of the language I use, ESPECIALLY during any sexual scenes, are most likely not used until modern times, but I just think this way sounded the best, and I’m going to go with it, as this is my created universe, ya know? Haha. By the way, Hawthorne Michael is now and forever fuckboy Michael in my mind. So just keep that in mind for future reference.
> 
> Also, this quote, “For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.” Is from Virginia’s Woolf’s book ‘The Waves.’ I love her books, and she always inspires me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ANIMAL VIOLENCE

**Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him.”  
― Fyodor Dostoevsky **

I thought maybe the odd room would be locked, but it was not. I opened it. Yes, this was definitely the space from whence the smell originated. I had to cover my nose again, but it was not enough. Just standing there was making my throat constrict.

In the center of the room there was a metal table covered with water. All around was broken glass, like someone had went through and destroyed everything they could get their hands on. The smell of vinegar and strong chemicals remained. Weird materials were in clumps all around. I could not identify what exactly it was and did not want to know. Near the table were weird wire pieces, and strange apparatuses. Many of these were broken or looked like they were. As I approached the table, I saw that underneath the water, the surface seemed to be stained with a dark substance. Could it be blood? What could Michael have been doing in this room? Do I even want to ask? There was an opening near the table. I lifted the latch of the big square, and it creaked ajar. I looked through the hole, and saw it led directly outside to the river. A chute? I opened a cabinet nearby. Scalpels, a small hand saw, and other sharp objects littered the shelves. The smell was worse as I passed by the cabinet. A big trunk was on the floor. It had been fitted with a heavy, sinister-looking lock. 

I took the key that I found on the floor from out my pocket. It fit. I momentarily paused before lifting the lid. I was deeply afraid. I pushed up the trunk lid an inch, immediately recoiling from the stench, dropping it back into place, and falling on the hard, wet ground. My stomach seized and spasmed as it tried its hardest to keep the contents of the day inside. There was no mistaking it. This was the smell of death. One was not required to be familiar with the scent to instinctual know it on an evolutionary level. It was staggering.

I had to know. I could not go back to the land of the living without seeing once and for all what was in this mysterious trunk. I used my thumb and index finger to close off my nose, and without mulling it over for a single second more, got up on my knees, and pried open the lid. The lid hit the wall as I took in the view.  
There were bits and pieces of body parts. By the looks of them, they were at different ages in the decaying process. They were male and female. Bones, muscles, even some parts of an unknown animal. My brain could not process the trunk’s contents, or the implications. I had an ominous feeling that to fully understand would be diabolical to my very soul. I sat staring in silence, unable to form a coherent thought. Towards the bottom of the trunk, I noticed that two body parts that did not belong together looked as if they had been sewn to eachother lazily. 

Maybe Michael had not done this. How could I be sure? He could have been staying with someone else- an insane person that I did not even know existed yet. I could not draw conclusions so quickly. This was my Michael. He was odd, but he wasn’t this odd, was he?

………………………

_It was about to be Autumn. The Langdon’s started talking more and more about Michael attending the Hawthorne School, which was beginning far quicker than I expected. I had still not found any satisfactory excuse to give the Langdon’s about why I should be allowed to go with him to the school. His parents believed he was doing better than ever and was finally able to be on his own. Only I knew how strange things were starting to become._

_Michael and I had started taking walks every evening as the sun set. The approaching fall gave everything a slight pink tint, making me feel as if I was living in a place where fairy tales could, and did, occur. We would walk along the lake, and through the woods talking about every single thing, except what had happened between us on those two occasions. I was too nervous to bring it up, fearing I would shift something necessary in our dynamic, while he…..I didn’t quite understand why he was silent on the issue. I just knew that he wanted me to remain quiet about it until he brought it up, and me, being so attuned to his every whim, happily kept my mouth shut. I was torn between wanting something else to happen and being supremely happy that I had my best friend back for the time being._

_While taking one of our many twilight walks, we heard a loud peculiar sound coming from the woods. We began to walk towards it. It sounded like a child crying. It brought back memories of John and his mangled arm. My breathing and my heart rate picked up as we approached a large deer on its side, leg bent at the strangest angle. Its eyes rolled wildly in its head as it panted and tried to get up. I reached out an arm to hold Michael back from the sad creature, but he walked through it like it wasn’t even there. He got closer to the deer, examining it._

_“What should we do?” I whispered._

_Of course, I knew we needed to help it. I looked around for a rock, or something heavy that we could use. The sounds the beast made brought tears to my eyes and made my lips tremble._

_“There’s nothing that can help the poor thing, unfortunately,” Michael proclaimed._

_He circled the deer._

_“We cannot let this opportunity pass. I want to study it.”_

_He leaned forward, putting a hand on its body, which it recoiled from as best as it could. Trying not to look at him in distaste, I replied,_

_“If you want to look at it, we need to help it first, Michael. We need to end its suffering. Find a rock, or-“_

_Michael shook his head and took out the knife he always seemed to carry as of late._

_“It needs to be alive for this.”_

_I stared in horror as he slashed at the animal, his hands and clothing becoming red with his effort. His calm façade during something so brutal terrified me leaving my legs shaking. Holding myself up became difficult. The worst part was the deer was still alive. It lay there, its cries increasing in volume, and then going silent as Michael started making soft cuts along its stomach._

_“Y/N, I won’t be able to get through the ribs with this knife. Go to the house and get me a larger one. Hurry.”_

_The intensity of the situation combined with the sounds the flesh made as it separated from bone sparked a chain reaction of emotion. I looked at Michael for a second. Noticing I made no move towards the house, he looked up at me. His calm eyes met mine, and suddenly flashed angry in understanding of what I was about to do. At the same moment that I took off, running in the opposite direction of the house, Michael’s angry voice rang out,_

_“Do. not. run.”_

_I did not know where I was going. This was the first time I explicitly disobeyed Michael’s wishes. My thoughts were mixed up as I headed towards the lake. It was deep and bitingly cold, and I barely knew how to swim. Why I was entering the lake, I could not tell you. I wanted to stop thinking so much, and just do the first thing that came to me. My mind was always going, trying to decipher how to get through the next calamity that remained lurking on every horizon. I wanted to dissolve in the water. I had no time to plot my next move, as I saw Michael’s tall form against the skyline. He looked like a God, like Hell brought to Earth, as he walked towards the lake. Towards me. That slightly feline saunter that I know so well. His angelic face contrasted starkly with the crimson blood he was stained with. He is as terrifying as he is beguiling._

_As he gets closer, I turn away from him in the water, hoping to awaken from this dream. I feel the water shift around me as he walks through it, gracefully meandering the lake, hardly making a sound. I feel the energy around me rearrange itself, as it so often does when he is near. Michael steps up behind me._

_  
“Turn around.”_

_I feel his breath softly hit my person._

_“No.”_

_His hand grabs my arm, rough and demanding, and pulls me until my back hits his chest, forearms locking around my upper body and arms, gripping tight. I feel him move his face onto my shoulder, and sigh dramatically._

_“The heart failed before I could remove it.”_

_I hear frustration and blame in his voice, projected towards me. His delicate hands start to explore, running up my chest, across my heart, and up my neck. One hand is in my hair, softly massaging, while the other lightly holds me to his body._

_“Which part controls you, Y/N?”_

_He motions from my brain to my heart. “Which part makes you who you are?”_

_I start to cry. Am I here to amuse you, Michael? Do I exist purely to clean up your messes? And if I stopped doing it, would you even want to know me? I try to keep my pain secret from him, but of course he catches on quickly._

_“Are you crying?”_

_“Does it matter to you?”_

_“Of course it matters,” he softly says, turning me around, and kissing my forehead before I can look upon him too much. I can smell the metal of the blood as he rests his forehead against my own._

_“You have such a lovely temperature.”_

_He held on tightly as I trembled in the bitter water. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N.”_

_I did not remember it happening, but we somehow made it out of the lake. Baths were drawn up for us inside the home. Michael took his first. While he was preoccupied, I took his bloody clothing to the woods, and hid them inside a hole that was eating through an old tree trunk. I made my way back to the house and waited._

_…………._

_I got out of the tub, cloth wrapped around my now warm body. I was heading towards my room when I walked into a hard chest. I stepped back, looking up at Michael’s face, now cleansed of blood. His visage was innocent and clear, as if he had no problems in the world. A question lingered in his eyes. Quite suddenly, I was against the wall. He pulled the cloth from me and threw it to the ground. When I went to reach for it again, he grabbed my wrists in his hands, stopping my action. The press of his clothed body to my nude one was ineffable. I could feel his hardness as he pressed his soft lips to mine. His hands let go of my wrists, long fingers twining through my hair, and tugging gently._

_“Is this what you want?”_

_His eyes were glazed with lust. His yearning increased mine ten-fold. I didn’t know how to mesh together everything I felt for this lost boy. What does it mean that I still want him, that I still love him, and want him to love me? I know I am not a victim. If anything, I am a conspirator in this._

_As he kissed down my neck, so softly and passionately for a boy who had just done something so evil a mere hour before, my mind started to replay images and sounds. The deer. Blood. The lake. His hand started to drift between our bodies, but before anything more could happen, I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands._

_“No. No, I’m sorry.”_

_I went to grab cover for my body. He looks as if he might try to stop me, his hooded eyes showing confusion and slight outrage that I was, once again, going against his wishes. When his hand grabs the cloth before mine, I flinch back from him, and his pained look isn’t lost on me._

_“Relax, Y/N. I’m trying to help you. Just stay still.”_

_He puts the material around my body. I turn to leave right as I’m wrapped up._

_“I said to stay still,” he asserts. “I may let you have this little moment to regroup your senses, but you are not, nor will you ever be, the one in charge here. Do you understand?”_

_We stare at eachother, each silently daring the other to say or do more. Eventually, I am the one who breaks the hush._

_“Goodnight, Michael.”_

_That night, terrible nightmares propel me from my room to Michael’s. He smirks, like he knew I would be arriving, and we sleep without fear, though I did not know if I could ever see Autumn leaves again without remembering blood pooling around their edges, soaking into the Earth._

………………………

There were two books under the lazily stitched abomination in the trunk. I quickly pushed my hand past the parts, grabbing both books, and quickly slamming the lid shut. The first was a textbook by Karl Richard Lepsius titled ‘The Book of the Dead.’ Putting that one down, I picked up the second. It was a leather notebook. I opened it up to a random page and saw Michael’s handwriting. These were his notes. As I flipped, and the dates progressed, my eyes started to fill with tears. I was seeing the mental anguish and breakdown of my friend. The handwriting became more off kilter and frantic, the drawings stranger and harder to understand. Many of the pages contained talk about resurrection, defeating death, and the human body. If Michael had done this, then obviously he had gone mad. Was he even going to know me when awoke? Had I lost him forever? 

I heard knocks pounding on the door. I had completely forgotten that Cordelia and Mallory had gone to get the doctor. I ran to the door, letting them in. 

“Quick, he’s in the back.” 

I led them to the room, hoping the doctor would not ask any questions. He appeared to be very concerned for Michael, and all eyes were on him, and what we needed to do to get him better.  
………….

We were all sitting around Michael’s sickbed in the doctor’s personal quarters as I informed him about Michael’s history with fevers and sickness. I was holding a wet cloth to his forehead.

“He might say things that sound strange or horrible, but it’s just the fever talking. He won’t remember when he wakes.” 

“It was quite lucky you found him when you did. If he laid there any longer, he may have burnt up all his body’s fluid.” 

Hearing the doctor say this gave me an idea. Something needed to be burnt, and I was the one tasked to do it. 

Looking at Cordelia and Mallory, I said, “I’m so thankful we found you, Cordelia. You helped me find Michael, and this doctor among other things. I’m very grateful. I wonder…..”

Cordelia stared at me. “What is it?”

“Our landlady locks the doors at sunset. I have doubts that Mallory and I will make it back before then-“

“You need not even ask!” Cordelia interrupted. “Of course you are both more than welcome in my home any night.” 

……………..

_After the incident with the deer, I was plagued with nightmares on a nightly basis. This led to bouts of insomnia where I would distract myself from the bed in any way I could. I would read. Sometimes, Michael would read to me. Some of the nights would be particularly rough. I was always overcome by emotion when, gazing out the window, I could see the faint light of sunrise, and I would realize that Michael had read to me through the night into the morning. He never appeared angry at me for my need of his voice._

_“I will read to you, Y/N. You don’t have to face your dark journey just yet.”_

_I began to keep a journal, thinking it would help me sort out my emotions. Many times, Michael would study, sitting next to me as I wrote. I would frequently peel my eyes up from my pages to see that his were focused directly on me._

_“Michael, you are probably getting sick of watching me write. You should go and make use of the day.”_

_He just smiled slightly before turning his eyes back to his book._

_“Y/N, death will find me long before I tire of watching you.”_

_It was a curious and almost prophetic thing for him to say, as the next month I was on death’s threshold._

_Because our house was so secluded, we rarely got the illnesses that tended to spread through town. Eventually, our luck ran out. I fell into a sickness that was so severe, I was told later that the Langdon’s did not think I would make it out. I remember periods of burning, aching, and violence upon my body, and then nothing at all. There were long periods of time where I never emerged from my sleep. I was in a temporary state of death for weeks. Even through the sickness, the nightmares never left. In fact, they became more intense and detailed._

_In one, Dorian and I were chained to a large mass in a darkened room. We were both nude, the chains looped around our necks, locking us to the wall, and locking us to eachother. Henry was motioning to me. I couldn’t hear his voice, but his hand seemed to be referencing the cuffs around our necks. I examined his from across the way. When I stared at it at length, I noticed that it was barely on there. If he wanted to take his off, it would be as simple as lifting it free from his head. I touched the manacle around mine. It seemed to be the same thing. Suddenly, there was intense heat. I almost believed my clothes were inflamed, then I realized I was not wearing any. As I looked back up, a man was emerging from the darkness, his voice deep and luscious._

_“I’m Gentlemen Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles. The canker in the heart of the rose.”_

_Fear enveloped me as I softly slipped out of my dream._

_My eyes were still closed, but I had awoken from my sickness-laced slumber for a minute. There were soft, warm hands on my face. I knew them to be Michael’s right away. I was not certain he knew I was awake. His voice was desperate. It was clear he was in agony._

_“Please, don’t leave me. I need you. Please….”_

_His fingers softy stroked my cheekbones. I wanted to reach out to him, to ease his pain, and tell him everything would be alright, though I wasn’t certain it would. I felt like I was on the line between two points. One being the life I had created for myself, and the other being unknown. The unknown was beckoning to me, promising me rest from sickness, pain, and endless work. I was not afraid of it. My body wanted me to stop. It wanted me to let go, and let the darkness take me. In my head, I pleaded._

_‘Let me die.’_

_And Michael, like he was reading my mind, replied out loud,_

_“Never.”_

_I felt him slightly lift my body as his shaky voice whispered,_

_“I love you.”_

_It was bittersweet. Like, he thought his words might somehow be just the thing that would fix everything._

_“I love you more than anything. Please don’t go away. I know I’m a monster….but you’re helping me. I’ll try harder. I’ll do anything, just please don’t leave me in this place. I love you. I love you so much.”_

_I can feel myself sinking back into unconsciousness when a cool cloth touches my forehead, making my eyes finally flutter open. Michael’s eyes shone with mania as they took me in. He was disheveled and looked as if he didn’t know if I were truly awake or not. His face was red from the salt in his tears that continued to spill. I reached for his face, wiping away moisture that has accumulated. He kissed my fingers like they contained a balm that his soul sorely needed, and my love for him bloomed like a flower under the moon._

_“Please don’t leave me. Not now. Not ever.”_

_After the sickness left my body, I began to get the strangest feeling, almost like a premonition that never really left. I was constantly on edge, filled with a dread I couldn’t name. There was a whisper of something lingering in the back of my skull. Something taunting me, laughing gleefully as it informed me that I had picked the wrong option. That I should have let myself die._

_Later, when Mrs. Langdon would be on her own deathbed, I would remember the ominous feeling as she harshly grasped my wrist, bruising me._

_“Michael is your responsibility. You can never leave him. Promise me.”_

_Her eyes held me with an intensity she had never shown me. I could do nothing but affirm with her wishes._

_“I promise, Mrs. Langdon.”_

_Her eyes were still on me as they covered her expired form with a blanket. I left the room, walking to Michael’s, preparing to comfort him over the death of his Mother. He was in tears, his bed covered in books, and paper. I ran to him, extending my arms which he climbed into like a child._

_“Your Mother loved you and is in a way better place now.”_

_I rocked him back and forth._

_“I’m not crying for her. Why should I? She behaved like she was dead long before it actually came for her.”_

_“Then what is the matter?”_

_“What if this would have happened to you? If I had lost you that day…..”_

_“You didn’t, Michael. I got better. I’m fine.”_

_“But you will not always be. Someday death will try to take you, and I won’t allow it.”_

_His voice was rising higher and higher, and I could feel that barely contained anger slowly leaking out around the edges. I let him go and I started to move back a bit on instinct._

_“Michael, everyone dies. I’m not afraid.”_

_“NO! YOU CANNOT DIE WITHOUT ME! AND IF YOU EVER WERE TO STOP BREATHING, I WOULD BRING YOU BACK TO LIFE EACH AND EVERY TIME.”_

_I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off when he pushed his mouth against my lips, slightly kissing me, before pulling back._

_“You are mine, Y/N. And I won’t let anything take you from me, not even death.”_

_He hugged me to his body. I did not hug him back, I just laid against him with my arms limply hanging at my sides. I was too exhausted. Exhausted from death, men, and emotional outbursts; tired about it all. He pulled back, examining my face._

_“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”_

_He put his face into my neck and wrapped himself around me once again. When I didn’t respond, he grabbed my arms with his hands, forcing them around his body, demanding that I embrace him._

……………..

I convinced Cordelia and Mallory to meet me back at Cordelia’s home. I informed them I was going to buy new clothes for Michael, should he need them when he woke up. In truth, that was not where I was headed. I had things to take care of at Michael’s macabre abode. 

Carrying oil that I had stolen from the Doctor’s home, I walked alone, in the dark. If these same streets seemed ominous and foreboding in the day, in the dead of the night, they were even more threatening. I longed to be back at Cordelia’s, cuddled up with Mallory. I was fatigued as I hurried along the cobblestones in my cloak, the hood drawn up. A faint fog swirled across the landscape, making my journey seem dream-like. I felt the eyes of the city on me, once again. I wanted this torturous night to be over. 

I finally approached the haunted shape of Michael’s home, and stepped over the threshold. The place was entirely too silent, like it was holding its breath, waiting to see what I would actually do. I went to the back room, and looked over Michael’s bed, and the surroundings once more, before I made my final decision. I opened the oil, pouring it all over the bed, soaking it through. I then lit a match, dropping it into the solution. I watched the flames come to life as heat and color spread around me at a brisk pace I did not expect. 

With my heart beating out of my body, I ran out of the house, and back into the night. The home was quickly consumed by the fire, windows blowing out in the process. I began to run from the scene of the crime. I was skittish, and shaking with nerves, but felt a great burden lift from my shoulders. Now no one would ever know what Michael was doing in this house. The house would keep both of our secrets for now. I hoped I still had his heart.  
……..

Arriving back at Cordelia’s, I hung up my cloak as I was met with her suspicious glare. 

“You have no clothing…” 

On the way back, I tried my hardest to think up a viable excuse as to why I had come back empty-handed. 

“I could not find a shop in time! And then I got lost in some strange part of town. I’ve been walking so long that I’ve exhausted myself. I should head straight to bed!” 

With an uncertain look in her eye, she led me upstairs to where Mallory was already fast asleep. She made sure I was settled, then went to the shut the door. Before she did, she turned towards me, looking hesitant. 

“Y/N, I do hope we become friends, and that you learn you can trust me. I also hope you would not hesitate to come to me if something undesirable was going on.” 

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Is everything alright? You aren’t….in danger?”

“I assure you I have no notion of what you could be referring to.” 

She gave me a thin-lipped, skeptical smile before leaving me to stew in my thoughts. 

I woke up in the late afternoon after my unsettling nighttime escapades. Mallory was no longer in bed next to me. As I went downstairs, anxious to fetch her and make my way to Michael, I was met with the sight of Cordelia sitting in a chair in the kitchen, holding my cloak. 

“I doubt you will ever be able to get the stench of fire off this cloak.” She was lightly smiling. “If you wanted to commit a crime, you could have borrowed one of my old ones.” 

I gave a disheartened look around the room, hoping Mallory was not in earshot. 

“Do not worry, dear. She is outside. Please do not lie to me again. You may look like an angel, but I already know what you did. The news has spread through town. You burnt down Michael’s quarters. Is that why you locked us out? What was in there that you wanted no one to see? What was so terrible? Hmm?” 

I was rendered speechless. Cordelia was leaning forward in her chair. Was I mistaking myself in thinking there was a look of glee in her eyes? I hoped so, as I knew I was caught by her. 

“Maybe I like fire’s?” 

She laughed. 

“I like you, Y/N. I’m afraid of you, but I like you a lot. I will dispose of your cloak in my fireplace, and I will not tell a soul about this, nor will I ask why you did it. I almost forget how aimless my life seems to become when I am not part of something, and with other females, nonetheless.” 

Cordelia made to leave the room but turned back towards me. 

“You will not burn my house down, will you?”

“Of course not! I never wanted to burn this one down. I was simply protecting my friend.” 

She nodded slowly. "You originally told me he was your cousin." I had forgotten about that entirely. I was slipping up. My lies were all blending together. “No matter. I would say he is more than a friend to you if you would go to such great lengths for him. In fact, I would say you were in love with him.” She smiled, teasingly. 

“It’s more than love. He’s my entire existence.” 

Cordelia’s discovery of my secret made me want to absolve myself to her, but before I could say anything further, Mallory walked in. 

“We are going to go check on your friend now, Y/N.” 

“Oh, you do not have to come with us, Cordelia. You’ve done so much already, and I’m sure we can manage on our own-“ 

“Of course I’m coming along! I’m invested now.” 

Once we arrived at the doctor’s home, we were told only one person could go in at a time. Cordelia took Mallory to the bookstore, while I sat with Michael. He was not awake yet, but his color was improved since the previous night. He was muttering about Adam and Eve, and other ramblings pulled straight from the Bible. As I put cold water to his forehead, he fell back into his pillow, his face relaxed.  
…………………..

_The Bible was the only book that Michael Langdon had absolutely no use for. He read it, not only because he read every book that passed through the walls of his house, but because it was required reading by the Langdon’s. We were supposed to read it every single day. Sometimes we did, but most times, I did, while he did something else._

_On this day, I was lying on my stomach on the floor, flipping through passages of the Bible, as Michael read a book on human anatomy on his bed._

_“How can you read that, Y/N?”_

_“Your parents desire it.”_

_“They are not in the room. You can stop pretending to believe.”_

_“I’m not pretending, Michael. Why not read it? It’s interesting. I have no inkling of whether or not I believe a God exists.”_

_“And yet, you wear a gold cross around your neck.”_

_The Langdon’s had bought me the cross years before, and I didn’t feel right removing it._

_“You are 100% certain that God does not exist, then?”_

_“I did not say that. I simply do not care either way. I argue that if he did exist, it would change nothing, so why argue about it?” He smiled slyly. “Besides, that antiquated book is simply a tome of regulations. There’s no need for rules anymore. Chaos has won. Evil prevails.”_

_“I take it you’ve seen a lot of evil-doing whilst sitting atop your pampered throne?” I teased._

_He did not take my statements to heart, and instead seemed to be intently focused on something else._

_“Did you know Lucifer means star of the morning? Brightness…the bearer of light. The universe is made up of energy. Light is one of energy’s most common forms, and the one we can directly see with our eyes.”_

_He stared at me while he spoke, no longer looking at his studies._

_“God made Lucifer beautiful, and endowed him with perfect wisdom and pleasing musical abilities. When Lucifer wanted glory, something that was rightfully his to want, God abandoned him. Worse. He made him a scapegoat for his own selfish desires. If we ever truly wanted to know the character of someone, would we trust the enemy of that person to help us with the task? We know not why Lucifer did what he did, or if he ever did any of those things at all. We only get the word of one side, and we are expected to trust that side implicitly.”_

_“You think that Lucifer isn’t as bad as he’s made out to be?”_

_Michael had walked over to me at this point, and was on his knees, next to me, looking over my shoulder at the book._

_“I’m simply expressing that every person has reasons why they do things. Motives. Destines, maybe. They could be considered selfish, or unimportant, or vain……but, everyone has a part to play in the world in some respect, whether they choose to play their role or not. Whether they want to, or they don’t.”_

_“It seems like you care a lot about religion,” I smiled._

_His fingers grazed the back of my neck, pulling the necklace up until the shape of the cross pressed harshly to my throat, imprinting itself upon my flesh._

_“No. You’re my religion, Y/N. You’re all I care about. You’re all I’ve got.”_  
………………

After the doctor informed me that Michael’s health was returning, and that he would be fully lucid within the next two days, I decided to go home with Cordelia and Mallory. That night brought terrible dreams once again. Dreams of blood red moons and dark waters with endless depths. 

I had been pacing by the window when I noticed a figure on the streets below. They were dressed in black, and they were looking up at me. Could they see me? Even in this darkened room? Most assuredly not, so why hadn’t it moved? Why did I feel condemned, like I must plead my case before this unnatural being? 

“Y/N.” 

I jumped at the sound of Mallory’s voice next to me. 

“Why are you out of bed?” 

My eyes flew to the window. The specter was gone. I did not know whether to feel relief.  
……………

_Just as Mrs. Langdon was starting to get sick, Mr. Langdon decided to send Michael to the Hawthorne School. It was decided that I could not go, and no matter how much I pleaded that it would be dire for Michael to be in a new environment without me, his parents were firm that I was to stay at the house. I was to be without Michael for the first time._

_The most hellish part of the whole ordeal was the day he left. No one had come to wake me, instead thinking it would be less dramatic if they took him to the school early in the morning before I awoke. I did not get to say goodbye to him, and it killed me. I noticed a change in myself. I became a little bitter, and more mature. Shortly after Michael’s departure, Mrs. Langdon started staying in a medical facility full-time, and John was sent to live with a brother of Mr. Langdon’s until she could return._

_It was just me and Mr. Langdon in the home now. It was tense and quiet most days. There was no doubt in my mind that he wondered what use I was to them now. Michael was fine. He no longer needed me. John was not here to govern. What was I, but a drain on the family funds? Besides my grief about losing Michael, I carried a constant paranoia. How long until I was thrown out?_

_Mr. Langdon allowed me to write letters to Michael, promising he would make sure they found their way to him. I wrote to him at least once a week, telling him how much I adored him, and hoping he would remember why he loved me. I got one letter from Michael. It was short and to the point._

_“Y/N,  
I do love you and miss you very much.  
But, I do not think we should write eachother while I am here. It makes things harder.  
I’m miserable tonight. The thought of you is usually enough to get me through, but not right now.  
I want you here, but you cannot be, and I am deeply unhappy.  
So, I am going to study, and put myself fully into that so I can be happy and numb.  
I promise to you that I will not tire of you.  
I am not going anywhere. Do not even think about it for another second.  
And please, do not forget that I exist, and that I love you._

_Michael.”_

_It had been three months, and I had only received the one letter from Michael. I thought he would eventually break and write me back. But he never did. I was filled with rage and despair. And I was envious above all._

_One afternoon, Dorian’s face turned up unexpectedly at the house. He asked me to go to town with him so he could "brighten my day", and I was more than happy to break my routine and leave that place behind for a few hours. My confusion grew once we made it town, and Dorian paid to take out a boat onto a small lake. We had our own lake at the house. We also had a boat. His only response was,_

_“Other possibilities exist separate from that place, Y/N.”_

_We were sitting in the center of the placid lake on a clear, spring day. I felt carefree and light until I heard Dorian’s remark._

_“You should marry me.”_

_I laughed, and he did not. He just smiled, and it was at this point I could tell he was very serious about the matter. Who would I be if I married Dorian? Would I have a whole new set of things I had to watch out for, and take care of? Could I be myself with him? I thought I was most my true self with Michael, but I was honestly not sure who I truly was at the heart of me._

_“I’m only sixteen. I’m not thinking about that yet, Dorian.”_

_“But you aren’t saying no?”_

_His voice sounded happy, and surprised. I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted to tell him that I could never imagine marrying him. He was my friend, but that’s the only thing I felt towards him. But Michael had practically abandoned me. I was furious with him, and I did not want to be without options. I leaned over in the boat, kissing his cheek. As I pulled back, I noticed his face had turned pink._

_“That’s good enough for me.”_

_We turned to the subject of his schooling, which his family had pulled him out of, to work in the family business._

_“You should be at school with Michael, Dorian. I cannot believe your father pulled you out of Hawthorne.”_

_“My family thinks it’s useless. Plus, you deserve to be there more than me. I’m not really cut out for academia. I want to make sure that I have the funds if I do get married. I want to be able to take care of the person I am with, so that they won’t regret being mine.”_

_He smiled at me, blushing. I did not know how to explain to him that I was Michael’s, and did not know how to be anyone else’s._

__

_“Oh, I meant to ask you this….”_

_Dorian seemed like he was blushing again. He looked away from me, and down at his feet instead._

_“What is it?” I laughed._

_“About Hawthorne. There is a dance going on at the school tonight. Everyone from town is invited. I was wondering….if you wanted to go with me….as my date.”_

_“Oh….”_

_I did not want to lead Dorian on, and was on the precipice of saying no to his offer when it occurred to me that if I went, Michael would most likely be there. I would get to see him after being separated for so long. I was angry at him for leaving me behind, but I couldn’t not see him. That wasn’t an option._

_“That sounds delightful! I would love to go with you.”_

_His face shone with excitement, and a pang of guilt vined around my heart for deceiving him in this way. I grabbed his arm._

_“Only….”_

_“What is it, Y/N.”_

_“If we happen to see Michael tonight, we should not tell him we are there together. Just to…you know…”_

_“Why should he not know we’re together?”_

_“I do not want to upset him.”_

_“Why should he be upset?”_

_“Well, he’s quite fond of me, quite possessive.”_

_“I do not think that will be a concern now since Evaline.”_

_“Evaline?”_

_Dorian’s face contorted with confusion, and then understanding. Then pity._

_“Oh, you don’t know…”_

_I just stared at him. I knew what was coming before he said it, and I did not want to hear it. If it was true, then I would die. If it was true, then my life was fated to be without happiness of any kind._

_“Michael is courting Evaline. He has been for awhile now….I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought you knew.”_

_So, this is why he had come. To “brighten my day.” He thought I was in mourning after having my heart broken._

_“I’m such a fool. I should never have invited you to that dance knowing he went there….I should not have brought any of this up. I am so very sorry.”_

_I wanted to see for myself. If what he was saying was true, then I would accept Dorian’s offer of marriage. I would leave Michael and the Langdon’s forever. Besides sadness, despair, and hopelessness, I could not deny that I was filled with a rage like I had never felt before. I wanted to make him suffer in this moment. And I knew I could just by showing up with Dorian._

_“No, Dorian. I’m…..don’t even think about it. I still want to go with you. I was just caught off guard. I’m completely alright. Michael and I aren’t dating. We are more like siblings than anything else.”_

_I moved closer to him in the boat._

_“I want to go with you.”_

_I cuddled up to him, pressing my lips to his neck._

_“I want to go as your date.”_

_I was planning on letting Dorian take me to this dance tonight. I wanted to shower him with my affection. I wanted him to smother me with his attention. And I wanted to make sure Michael was there to witness it all.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did they have towels in the 1800s? Someone tell me! 
> 
> The quote about the canker in the heart of the rose? That goes to Anne Rice! 
> 
> The next chapter is going to be about Michael's Hawthorne time, and this is going to be a time of ANGST. Michael will be acting pretty rude towards the reader as he gains independence from his family, and from her. The reader will be acting rude right back, and jealousy sparks hard between them both.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANGST. This chapter contains a lot of conversations after the Hawthorne School dance.

**“Though lovers be lost, love shall not.”  
-Dylan Thomas**

_We had crossed the lake into town and arrived at the Hawthorne School. Young couples were streaming in and out of the building, dressed up, and talking amongst themselves. I had chosen to wear a blue silk evening gown with lace and ribbon trim. My hair was simple; braided behind my back. Dorian wore a black suit made of velvet, and a black silk cravat._

_I was supremely nervous about what I would find tonight. I inevitably found myself feeling like I was getting closer to the clutches of my doom the further Dorian led me into the building. It crossed my mind that this was frequently something I felt in connection with Michael. I briefly wondered if I should not make up an excuse to go back across the lake to safety. If I didn’t know what exactly Michael was up to, then I could at least pretend the problem didn’t exist.  
The doors were propped open, and the building radiated warmth and joy. Dorian’s arm was slotted through mine. I could faintly hear his voice, right on the edge of my consciousness, explaining things about the school, and who certain people were. I was barely listening. My eyes and ears were receptive to only one voice and form, and I was sweeping the room as I walked, desperate to find him. _

_As we rounded the corner, my head snapped up at the ring of a familiar tone. Michael’s head is tilted towards a girl who is a foot shorter than him. She stands in the crook of his arm, as he leans against her, and the act is so personal, it takes my breath away for a moment. I stop walking, and Dorian, realizing he is trying to tug dead weight, stops as well. He follows my line of sight and looks back at me sadly._

__

_As debonair as Dorian looked tonight, as tasteful as all the students looked, they couldn’t hold a candle to how Michael appeared in his simple Hawthorne uniform. He barely tried, and yet he simply outshined them all. His satin bow around his neck, paired with his styled golden curls. And his eyes….I was convinced that there were no other eyes in the whole world that could compare. Many of the boys around him were taller, which was odd to me, as I always thought of him as unquestionably tall in my mind. It could be because, to me, he towered over everyone in most ways._

_He moved closer to the girl, placing his hands on the back of her neck- an act he had done to me many times. One I never thought I would see towards someone else. Even worse, she is beautiful with her ivory skin, bright eyes, and immaculate way of dressing. She is a woman that men write poems about, and she knows it. I do not know how I am still standing or keeping my heart from crumbling into dust on the spot. I hated myself for being this weak over someone, and even more for still loving him, despite it all._

_He kisses her, and like a chain reaction, I immediately go. I moved away from Dorian quickly, walking down an arbitrary hallway, and entering a small library with a fireplace, and a chair that faced the door. I sunk down into the chair, feeling completely spent. Things I thought were set in stone were collapsing. Now what will become of me? When Dorian came in, I heard nothing._

_“Dorian,” I interrupted. Can I please be alone? Just for a little bit, and then I’ll join you.”_

_He muttered something about going to talk to his professors and a few friends, while I sat limply in the chair. I felt like I could cry. I didn’t. I mostly felt old, defeated, and worn out, like an old book missing pages. One that is no longer readable; one fit for the fire. My eyes dart up as a form glides across the entryway, and my eyes connect with hooded blue ones. He backtracks and glances into the room at me._

_“Y/N? Are you some kind of phantom, or are you actually here?” Michael smiled like an angel._

__

_He looked elated. His eyes were alight and dancing in the light of the fire. His alluring eyes lied, as did his mouth, curled into a smile that, curiously, contained no hint of the betrayal he was currently committing onto me. That was the most terrifying part. I thought about how little we actually know a person while he walked into the room, beaming._

_He approached and kneeled at my feet. He separated my knees and put his torso between them. His hands were on my thighs._

_“I missed you, angel.”_

_He pressed his forehead to mine._

_I leaned back, aversion in my voice. “Really?”_

_His eyes stumbled onto mine once he heard the tone in my voice. I shoved him hard in the chest, and he fell back and hit the carpet. He looked flustered._

_“Do not talk to me ever again.”_

_I walked towards the door to leave, stepping over his frame. He stood up, running after me. He slammed the door shut before I could walk through it. He put both hands on my neck, turning me to look at him._

_“What is going on?”_

_“I saw you. With Evaline.”_

_Realization bloomed in his eyes, and he looked down, rubbing his hand through his soft curls. A few seconds of strained silence followed._

_“I am going back to the party now.”_

_His eyes crossed mine, and his mouth was opened like he wanted to something but did not know how, or where to start._

__

_“I am going to find new living arrangements. Until then, if you ever do decide to make it back home, do not speak to me. We are nothing to eachother anymore.”_

_He seemed stunned, as I turned, opened the door, and walked out._

_I made my way back to where we started the night. I did not see Dorian. After wandering aimlessly through hallways, getting myself lost, I decided to just ask a student where the washroom was. If I couldn’t find Dorian, then I could at least fix myself while waiting. Unfortunately, I was informed that the washroom was past the place that Michael and I had just exchanged words. Already, the room was like a bad omen in my memory, and I wanted to forget of its existence.  
I walked slowly towards it and could faintly hear Michael and Dorian having a conversation inside. My curiosity pushed me into stepping closer, and pressing myself between the wall and opening, where I could hear them better. The door had been left cracked open. I peeked between the breach in the door, and saw Dorian standing with his arms crossed, staring down intently at Michael, who sat in the same chair I was previously in. He looked upset, and his eyes were watery. All traces of excitement were gone. _

_“Why did you bring her here?” Michael said quietly._

_Dorian scoffed. “Do not blame this on me. This indiscretion is your own.”_

_“Oh, I see. You are trying to win her over. Again. Trying to show her that I’m bad for her, is that it?”_

_“You_ are _bad for her, Michael. You do not really love her you just love lording over her.”_

_“You know nothing. I am stupidly, slit-my-own-throat in love with her.”_

_“I am too.”_

_His eyes shot up to Dorian’s, looking deadly, like he wanted to lunge at him. He reeled it back in, like a snake, coiled up, ready to strike._

_“Why?”_

_“Why what?”_

_“Tell me the reasons why you love her,’ he said, softly._

_“Well…she is beautiful, for one.”_

_“Yes, her beauty is unparalleled. And? Why you give ‘beauty’ as your first reasoning for love, I’ll never understand. Quite troubling, Mr. Gray.”_

_Michael held his chin between his index finger and thumb, looking pensive._

_“Why you revel in hurting someone you claim to love so much, I will never understand.”_

_“She doesn’t love you.”_

_Both men’s voices were starting to rise at this point._

_“You think she loves you, Michael? She feels indebted to you, that’s it. You can thank your parents for placing that burden on her shoulders. She needs you because you are her way to survive after they made her whole life about taking care of you instead of learning how to get by in the world. At least with me, I can make her feel beautiful, take care of her…”_

_“That’s where you’re wrong. She_ doesn’t _need me. If she were to leave today, she would be just fine without me. She’d find a way to make it in the world. She’s not some weak-willed woman, like you believe. And she certainly doesn’t need me, or you, or any man to make her feel beautiful. She’s already the most beautiful woman on earth. Our words have nothing to do with it. You’re not part of our story, Dorian, and you never will be. So. Stop. Trying. Stop involving yourself.”_

_Michael looked back down, dismissing him with his eyes._

_“If you think Y/N will just forgive you after this, betraying her trust so easily like it means nothing, you’re mistaken. I may sound like I’m being callous, but truth be told, I do feel sorry for you, old friend, as she just may finally be done with you. Who will clean up all your messes, now?”_

_Michael looked nervous, biting his lip, playing with hands, and trying in whatever way possible to not make eye contact with Dorian._

_“Rest assured, it will get easier with time.”_

_“No. It won’t. If she is “done with me,” as you say. It won’t get easier. It will just get easier to deceive myself over time and con myself into believing that she doesn’t mean as much as she does, but it’ll be a lie, and I’ll be in agony.”_

_Dorian seemed perplexed that Michael had said something that wasn’t cheeky or uncivil. He cleared his throat lightly._

_“I’m sorry, but that’s what you deserve. Actions have consequences.”_

_I could sense this conversation was coming to an end, so I made haste, walking down the hall until I found the washroom. Walking inside. I put my hand to my throat, closing my eyes. My whole body was shaking. Tears were threatening to overpower my being, but I knew I needed to wait until I got back to the house to have the breakdown I knew was on the horizon._

_Michael told Dorian he loves me. I do not know what to believe anymore. Dorian was right about one thing, I did feel indebted to him, but that was not the full truth. I could pretend all I wanted, but the feelings of obligation had faded away long ago (mostly,) and what was left in its wake was pure love. I just wanted to help him because I loved him. Not like I could understand this love from either side- mine nor his. I cannot imagine ever picking someone else over him, unless I had no choice._

_Maybe I was too naïve and inexperienced with the world, and romance in general. Was this normal for men to behave in this way? I suspected it could be, but I would never know. All I had ever known was him. If I were given a chance to go away to school and meet new people, would Michael’s appeal wear off? It might be pleasant to pine after someone who did not suffer bouts of melancholy, who did not, on occasion, scare me, and act out violently, who did not have constant storms raging in his eyes. Could I ever trust anything he said? Memories of past indiscretions, big and small, filled my mind. The constant lying, about the most asinine of things._

__

_Like the time he told me he was studying English and could not be bothered to consort with Dorian and I._

_“English? I thought you said you were studying anatomy?”_

_“Did I?”_

_His eyes had a humorous glint in them. “I must have lied. But the issue is, which time?”_

_He smiled, getting up from his desk, and laying down in his bed. He lifted the covers and looked at me expectantly._

_“I’m really tired…..do you have to go to Dorian? Or, do you think you could just take a rest with me?”_

_Without even thinking about it, I laid down, my back to his chest. He put his face into my hair and neck, and promptly fell asleep as the afternoon turned into twilight._

_I dried my tears, pushing the memory from my mind, and fixing the bit of blush and powder I had worn. My face looked as it always had, while my eyes looked undeniable cheerless. That would not do. I needed to put on my façade. I returned to the hall only to find Dorian leaning against the wall._

_“I figured you’d be in there….will you be alright,, Y/N? We could just leave, if you’d prefer-“_

__

__

_“No. I’d like to stay, Dorian. I want to dance with you. If you want…”_

__

_Dancing was the last thing on my mind, but I was already here, and I did not want to waste Dorian’s time anymore than I already was._

_“Of course!”_

_He excitedly took my hand, leading me to the dance hall where everyone else congregated. The room was circular in shape, and dimly lit with tall white candles. Cheerful couples stood around, dancing, laughing, and starting conversation._

_I came here for the sole purpose of seeing if what Dorian said was true, and if it was, to make Michael suffer with my presence. But now that the time had come to inflict my wrath upon him, I no longer cared to. I was simply too heartbroken and upset to get my revenge._

_“Before we dance,” Dorian took my arm and led me to an area where other couples were deep in conversation, “let’s just talk for a bit.”_

_“I’d rather not talk, if you don’t mind.”_

_Dorian nodded, understandingly. He pulled me into his arms slowly, holding me lightly._

_“We can do whatever you want, Y/N,” he said with his soft lips to my ear. “You know, I always wanted to kiss you. Ever since the first moment I saw you.”_

_My eyes were closed. They didn’t need to be open for me to feel the air in the room shift, my hair raising on my arms. Michael had arrived. I could feel his eyes on me. I opened them and saw him past Dorian’s shoulder. He was standing with Evaline, but he was watching us. Anger was searing into me from his blue depths. I stared him down, vexed that he was bold enough to be mad at me in this moment. His features relaxed and he softly smiled at me, enraging and perplexing me at the same time, and I swear I observed hints of sorrow and understanding in his smile._

_I pulled myself up on my feet and pressed my lips firmly to Dorian’s. I could feel his surprise at my actions. I was bewildered myself. I was sick of me. I wanted to be anyone else for the night, so, I just pressed myself into him harder. His hands at my back traveled up to my neck, holding my body closer to his.  
With Michael, all he had to do was kiss me or touch me, and I would stop caring about most things he did, no matter how monstrous. I was hoping this kiss would have the same effect, but alas, it did not. I did not feel passion nor love, but indifference, and torment. When I pulled away from Dorian, I noticed that Michael was gone. _

_“Dorian, I know I said I would dance, but-“_

_Flustered, Dorian replied, “Yes, of course. Let’s go home.”_

_That night, back at the Langdon household, I sobbed myself into an uncomfortable sleep. When I woke up, it was to my pitch-black room. It didn’t feel right. My window was open, the curtain softly billowing outward and inward with the breeze. I started to feel like I was prey- like that deer Michael carved up in the woods.  
The hair was rising on my arms. Looking down towards my doorway, I saw a dark, human-shaped shadow. _

_“Y/N,” a voice said softly from the dark._

_I sat up, eyes wide, clutching the blanket to myself. I was on the verge of screaming._

_“Shh.”_

_The shadow lit a match. It was Michael._

_“God, Michael. Don’t do that! I thought you were an intruder.”_

_He walked closer to the bed, and blew out the match, bathing us in darkness once again. “Sorry.”_

_I was thrilled that it was just Michael until I remembered that I was upset with him, that sinking feeling hitting me hard. I lay back down, pulling the blankets up to my chin._

_“Why are you here?”_

_I cannot see his face in the dark, but I can sense his hesitation. Before I know it, he is climbing into my bed, tucking himself under the covers, and wrapping himself around my body. I tense immediately._

_“What are you doing, Michael?”_

_“Going to sleep, Y/N.”_

_“Go to your own room.”_

_No. He did not get to have her comfort AND mine. When did he even come home?_

_“I came home right after the event ended. I tried to sleep, but I had a nightmare.”_

_I pulled away from his grasp, and moved my body towards the wall, my back to him. I felt his hand reach out, go through my hair, and touch my neck. His thumb rolling lovingly over my pulse point._

_“You cannot sleep in here.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“You cannot sleep in here. You have a room, go to it.”_

_“I have slept in here hundreds of times.”_

_I became quiet, refusing to say more._

_Anger filled the space. “I don’t want to be alone, and you’re turning me away?”_

_The disbelief in his voice almost made me laugh. I took his hand, and threw it off my neck in a fury._

_“I do not know what you expect from me. I’m not your girlfriend. I do not even consider you a friend anymore. You’re old enough to deal with your issues on your own. I do not owe you anything.”_

_I hoped he sensed my anger just as much. I felt him get out of the bed, and storm out of the room, slamming my door shut in the process._

_This was not the best time to be in a fight with Michael Langdon. His school was officially on holiday. He was home all the time, just like before. I started to avoid him like the plague. Everytime he came into the room, I would leave. When dinner was served, Michael and his Father would converse, while I ate silently. When Michael would inevitably try to drag me into their exchange, I would say little. Some of the time, I would invite Dorian, and we would talk about poetry and art, while Michael would leer at us across the table, his father droning on and on, not aware that no one was listening. Things were becoming very tense in the house._

_One night, after taking a bath, I made my way back to my room. I could hear the rain clobbering the windows. The thunder and the wind roared in the night. As I opened the door, an unwelcome sight greeted me. Laying on my bed was Michael, his ankles crossed, his hands behind his head. He was barefoot. He had beautiful feet that you do not usually see on a man. His pose was so relaxed and care-free that it immediately infuriated me._

_“Get out.”_

_He sat up. “Listen to me first, then I’ll go.”_

_I crossed my arms over my chest, revealing my distaste. His eyes told me that he wanted me to come to him, or he wanted to get up. He longed for us to be closer._

_“I hate myself for hurting you. I had a good reason-“_

_“Stop. I no longer care to hear your lies.”_

_His eyes, which usually filled with humor and slyness when he was fabricating a story, just looked lost, and very young._

__

_“Before you came here, before you started living here, things were really bad in this house. Did you know my Father broke my ribs in two places?”_

_I gaped at him. Though I did not care for Mr. Langdon, I could not imagine him hurting his son in that way. What else was I unaware of? This family held its secrets tight._

_“I do not even recall what I did for him to react that way, but I’m sure it wasn’t good. He beat me, and then made me sleep outside in the snow. When they came to fetch me in the morning, I was near death. My Mother always told him that he needed to stop when he got too carried away, but it would happen again, and again. I tried so hard to make my parents, especially my Father, care about me. I tried to be what they wanted in a son, but it was never enough. A soul that is starved of affection, is filled instead with pain and anger. Because of him, a lot of my childhood was spent feeling very frustrated. But, above all, I was extremely lonely. My parents did not trust me around other people, especially their kids. When guests would come over, I would be locked into my room until they left. Sometimes, they would forget I was locked in there until the next morning. They would always say I was being punished, that they never forgot about me. But, I always knew they did. They couldn’t hide it from me. Sometimes, when I dream, I still see myself as that lost child. I have no idea that I’ve grown up. I’m still searching for something.”_

_Against my better judgement, I went to the bed, sat down next to him, and wrapped my arms around him. He was slightly shaking. Our hands reached for eachother in the silence. We stayed like that a long time, tangled up together, until the storm started to dissipate, and the rain lightly hit the windows._

_“I never felt like I mattered to anyone until you came here. I know you were forced into caring about me, I’m not that naïve, but I found myself pretending that you actually did love me, and it felt really good. And then I fell in love with you. I’m terrified all the time. That something’s going to happen to you. I used to not fear death. Once we are born into a body, it’s all over anyway. Now it’s all I think about…..This house makes it worse. I felt more like myself when I was at Hawthorne.”_

_He must have felt me tense at this admission, because he quickly said, “Well, except for one major missing part of me…..I’m ready to leave this place, Y/N. It’s almost time. My Father cannot continue to have this control over my life.”_

_He dug his hand into my hair, and forced my chin up, meeting my eyes. “Be mine again. Let me have you.”_

_His lips hovered near mine. I pulled back._

_“No. You already had me, and you didn’t want me.”_

_“That isn’t true. I’ve never not wanted you. You have to know that.”_

_“You are with someone else.”_

_“If only I could make you understand. My Father…”_

_“I know you had a bad childhood, but I did too. I suffered as well, and I would still not pick someone else over you. I feel like I have given my heart and soul to a man who treats them like they were mere flowers that he can aimlessly pick, and shove in his coat pocket without a single thought. I’m unhappy, and bitter, and miserable. And I never thought I would feel all of those things in relation to you. I usually reserve those for the world outside of you. I’m broken now..”_

_“No. Nothing and no one can break you. Not even me. You’re stronger than that-“_

_“I’m so…foolish, Michael. I did not truly have any right to be angry with you. I was jealous because you found someone that was not me. I was angry that you did not feel the exact same way as me. And it’s not right. I cannot be mad at you that you’re growing up. This has not been my best moment, and I would really love it if we could just pretend these events never happened, and just move on with our lives.”_

_“Can we really do that?” He said slowly. His eyes seemed hopeful but suspicious._

_“We’ll have to for now. We live in the same house, and I cannot take any more hostile dinners.”_

_“So, you aren’t leaving?”_

_He grabbed my hands, kissing the knuckles. “I’m so happy, Y/N. I was so afraid-“_

_I interrupted again. “Michael, I’m still trying to find somewhere else to live. I still want to leave.”_

_“You do not want me in your life anymore?”_

_His eyes welled up, but he kept ahold of my hands._

_“I hope one day we will be able to friends. I would still like you in my life in some fashion.”_

_“Friends?”_

_He dropped my hand, leaning forward and resting his arms on his thighs. He stared at the floor._

_“We’re never going to be friends. You know that. Whether we will be happy or miserable because of it…that’s your choice. On my end, I’m sorry I hurt you. I miss you so much. This hasn’t been easy for me. At all.”_

_I wanted to forgive everything, but when I saw his face, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew I did not have any claim on him. This was supposed to be a job, after all. But it hurt that after everything I had done for him, he still only considered me an option if everything else didn’t work out. A piece of property. And I viewed him as so much more. His eyes were still trained on me, despair tracing his features._

_“I can’t think of us apart. You and I are the same.”_

_I didn’t respond._

_“Do you hate me now, Y/N?”_

__

_His breath faltered. “She never meant anything to me. I was just using her….as a physical reprieve.”_

_I was taken aback by this. It never crossed my mind that anything had occurred between them, besides touching, and kissing. Just those things alone made me want to rip my heart out of my chest and destroy the universe. Knowing they may have shared more was suffocating._

_“You were with her…physically?_

_“Not in the way you are thinking….but we did experiment. A little bit. I was just trying to be…normal. I mean, this is what people do right?”_

_He looked almost ashamed. “I do not…know what you want me to say, Y/N. I only care about you. What I feel for you cannot be conveyed in such a simple way, but it’s the strongest thing in my life. I promise.”_

_“I do not want simple words or promises from you. Michael. I’ve had enough of those for a lifetime. You are a liar, and I do not trust you. I would never want, or even think of being with anyone else.”_

_“You came to my school on the arm of somebody else.”_

_His severe eyes met mine. They were shifting between emotions quickly. Anger, despair, hurt, disbelief. He was trying to turn this around on me. I kept letting him back in when I shouldn’t. I had to pull back. I couldn’t allow him to keep doing this to me._

_“And besides, you know I only love you. You shouldn’t care if someone else loves me. It has nothing to do with us.”_

_We just stared at eachother, neither one of us refusing to back down. I got up to leave._

_“I will sleep in the library tonight. You can stay here if you want.”_

_Michael got up and walked past me. “No. Stay in your room, Y/N. I will go to mine,” he said softly, walking out the door, and shutting it behind him._

_I had trouble falling asleep, and when I did, I had reoccurring nightmares about Michael. In one, he drowned in the lake as I watched. I could not move or speak. I could only look on and scream inside my head while his form sank below the dark surface of the water. In one, he was the same age when we first met. He was crying in his bed, his youthful frame shaking with sobs. I went to comfort him right away. He leaned into my touch and looked at me with pleading eyes._

_"I thought you were going to save me, Y/N.”_

_“I’m trying!”_

_Even in the dream, I knew I could never actually heal his wounds. They were too old, too deep. His dream-self must have been aware of this as well, as he looked up with his perceptive eyes, staring at me with a bit of pity, like my efforts would all be in vain in the end, but he still loved me for even bothering at all._

_“I know.”_

_And I woke suddenly with the thought that things wouldn’t be ok. Not at all._

_After this, I had started locking my bedroom door, and carrying the key with me. I wanted to make sure I had complete control of my surroundings, so I knew what to expect. I did not want Michael thinking he had the right to invade on my space any longer. On the first day after our talk, I did not see Michael at all. He must have stayed cooped up in his room, having his meals brought to him. This was uncharted territory for me. Usually, wherever he was, I was. Feeling this gulf between us was unbearable, but I could not give in. On the second day, I was walking back to my room after taking a walk by the lake. As I came upon my door, I saw a form leaning against it, arms crossed._

_“I was going to break it down, but I figured it would be more…cordial of me if I just stayed out here and waited.”_

_I could tell he was not impressed with this measure of privacy against him. That irritated me, but the nightmares I had two nights previous were still freshly ingrained in my mind, and they softened my stance towards Michael in the moment. I smiled, shaking my head and unlocking my door. He followed me in without being invited. He promptly went to my bed, and laid across it._

_“Why are you here?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, do you need something from me?”_

_He looked confused, biting his lip. “You know I’m here to be where you are. I can’t help it.”_

_I sat in my chair, opening my book, and beginning to read. From the corner of my eye, I could see him sit up. His gaze was ever present on my face. I kept my eyes on the book, not reading._

_“Are you still going to leave? I cannot get you to reconsider?”_

_I placed the book in my lap, softly. I was surprised he was not screaming and yelling. He was talking to me civilly. Maybe he had really grown at Hawthorne._

_“I’m sorry, Michael. I just think going our separate ways is for the best. For both of us.”_

_“I do not accept that.”_

_That tone that he frequently used with me was back again. He was irritated, and he was cocky. He was bothered that I was defying him so openly. I grabbed my book once again, lifting it to my face._

_“Y/N, please do not do this to me.”_

_I was not expecting a plea. It brought emotions to the surface that I was trying to contain. My eyes watered a bit. “Sometimes, things just do not work out the way you wanted or expected they would.”_

_“Look at me when you speak to me.”_

_I raised my head at his tone without a second thought. My submission to Michael always made me weak._

_“Where are you going to go?”_

_“I am…not sure yet, Michael. Maybe with Dorian.”_

_“Dorian?”_

_“He…asked me to marry him recently.”_

_I do not know why I said it. I’m lying. I do. You probably know as well. I was sorry right when the words left my lips. His eyes were on mine, looking for a lie that he couldn’t find._

_“Of course he did.”_

_He pushed his hands through his hair nervously. His leg was bouncing up and down, like he could not contain his body. He suddenly got up, striding over to his desk, and leaned forward on it, his hands gripping the wood tightly. He turned to me, his hands clasped behind him._

_“No. That’s not happening. You are not marrying him. In fact, you will never see him again.”_

_His voice was so calm, but like a slap in the face, all the same. I was jolted by his words, dropping my book. “You have no say in the matter.”_

_His voice rose. “No,_ you _have no say in the matter. You’re mine. Not his. You’ve always been mine, and you always will be. Why play pretend with him?”_

_His voice softened slightly, but his eyes stayed callous. “You aren’t leaving, Y/N. I’m…sorry. I love you. I can’t let you go.”_

_“You do not own me!”_

_“YOU ARE NOT LEAVING, AND THAT IS FINAL,” he roared._

_He moved closer, trying to meet my eyes, I refused turning the other way. He grabbed my face with his hands._

_“Unless you love him. Maybe you want to marry him. Is that it? You want to get away from me?”_

_“I want to get way from you, yes. But I do not love him.”_

_He let go of my face as my words had their intended impact. “But I’m sure you do not want him to die right?”_

_I finally faced him, seeing an ominous glint in his eyes._

_“Y/N, if you leave, I will kill him.”_

_I tried to see past the mask he was wearing, to see what he really meant. Surely, he couldn’t actually mean he would kill one of our oldest friends. His face was impenetrable. Maybe it wasn’t even a mask. I felt a chill of danger in the air telling me he meant every word he was saying._

_“You cannot just kill an innocent person because you’re insecure, Michael. That’s extremely childish, even for you.”_

_“He isn’t innocent, darling,” he bit out. “He’s trying to take something that belongs to me, something that is not his to take. He’s extremely guilty in my eyes.”_

__

_He pulled me up by my wrists and put his arms around me._

_“Do not touch me.” I tried to push him off. Tears were falling from my face. He kept his grip around me strong._

_“Do not try to remove my arms again.”_

_He wiped my tears off my face with his soft fingers. “You will be fine, Y/N.”_

_He maneuvered me against his chest more securely, resting his chin on my head. He breathed in like he was satisfied and content._

_“You’re not so innocent yourself, Y/N.”_

_“What does that mean?” I spoke softly._

_“I’m not stupid. I know you give me extra time and attention because you’re forced to. You’re afraid of what my Father would do if we weren’t so close. You do not think you’re apart of this family. You think you’re disposable. My Father can feel what he wants about you. I care not a bit what he thinks or feels. To me, you are my only family. I hope you believe me when I say that.”_

_Suddenly, it hit me. Familiar sentences that I had written with my own hand months before._

_“Did you….read my journal?_

_“I went to place a letter in it, the night before I went to Hawthorne. I knew my parents were planning on whisking me away without letting me talk to you. I needed to put it where only you would see it. It was for your eyes only. The page I turned to just happened to be about me.”_

_I had not written in the journal, or even thought about it, since he left. Hence, I had never seen the letter. It made my heart take notice. He cared enough to leave me something. He never left without a goodbye. I tried to clear the fog from my mind. Remember, he just threatened to KILL SOMEONE._

_“You loved writing in that journal, Y/N. I’m sorry if I caused you not to love it any longer.”_

_“If only you would have flipped to any other page. You would have seen years of how much I love you.”_

_“In spite of yourself.”_

_“Yes..”_

_“I do not blame you, Y/N. In fact, I understand in my own way. Though I cannot imagine the plight of a woman, I know how it feels to have to depend on others for your way of life. I love you, and yet, I am also using you. To feel something, to have my needs met. I do not mean to require of you so strongly, but yet, I do want things from you, and I cannot stop myself from wanting them. I wonder if you truly know how much I want you….”_

_His lips were pressed to my ear now, and I could hardly breathe. “You can use me too, Y/N, as long as you love me, even just a little bit.”_

_He pressed one kiss to my neck, and I was disturbed by how much further I wanted that kiss to go._

_“I want to show you something. In my room. Will you come with me?”_

_Like a walking corpse, I let Michael lead me out and down the long hallway. If someone saw us from afar, they would think we were a happily married couple, strolling the halls of our estate, hand-in-hand._

_We entered, and he let me go, walking over to a box, and opening its lid. There was a stack of letters on top. He pulled one from the stack and handed it to me. It was written to Michael’s address at Hawthorne. It was from his Father. I was puzzled looking at it._

_“Open it.”_

_I did._

_“Michael,_

_We had talked about this important matter before you left but you gave me no inkling as to what your decision would be.  
Have you decided?  
Evaline is a lovely woman. Her Father is a dear friend of mine from my own schooling days, and the family has a name that is respected around here. It would do us, and yourself, well, if you would get into her good graces.  
You will need to marry one day, and I cannot see why it should not be Evaline that you choose.  
Before you write to me talking about Y/N, let me remind you that we have had this conversation many times. She is not for you.”_

_My eyes darted up and locked onto his. He had talked to his Father about marrying me, and I felt love flow between our hearts, soothing the wounds of the past year. With the knowledge of what I was reading, he bashfully rubbed his hair out of his eyes._

_“Keep going.”_

_“She is not for you. Not for a Langdon. We do not even really know her family heritage. She will just not do.  
As long as you comply, and make strides towards courting Evaline, I will continue to allow Y/N to live under this roof. Do not continue worrying about her. _

_I expect your prompt reply,_

_Your Father.”_

__

_My eyes were filled with oceans as everything I thought to be true of Mr. Langdon was finally confirmed. He did not consider me apart of this family. He wanted me to tame his son, and then he wanted to throw me away. Michael’s voice broke me out of my reverie._

_“Everyday without you was like torture to me. It was all meaningless- a blur. I hope you can forgive me for deceiving you. I felt as if I had no other option.”_

_“I love you. So much. I wish this never would have happened. I treated you abhorrently. I’m so sorry.”_

_“I never doubted your love, Y/N. I knew you were hurt. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was afraid. You cannot let my Father know that you are aware. You must act the same as you always have until I can figure out a new plan.”_

_I nodded quickly._

_“And, Y/N, if my Father sees you as disposable, then he’s never truly looked at you. He does not know you. You have more power than you realize, especially over me. All your life, people have disappointed you, and I know I’m no different, but, if I could erase him from the Earth, from this timeline, from the memory of everyone and everything, just so you wouldn’t feel the pain of his words, I would do it.”_

_I tried to lighten the mood._

_“How long has he been trying to convince you to get rid of me?”_

_“Meaning?”_

_“You just seemed so unaffected this last year. So, I assumed maybe he had been pressuring you for longer than I realized.”_

_“Unaffected?” He looked perplexed. “By you?”_

_I nodded. He got closer, grabbing my hand containing the letter, crinkling it against me in the process, and placed my hand on his warm chest, right above his heart. He used his other arm to pull me further into him, and he kissed me. Beneath my hand, his heart sped up._

_We spent the next few weeks of his holiday sleeping in the same bed every night, usually mine. Our kisses were longer, deeper. Less talking was happening between them, and our hands were roaming further then they ever had._

_Eventually, his holiday ended, and Michael returned to school. We agreed that he was going to continue to see Evaline to keep his Father placated until we could formulate a new plan. We also agreed that the “experimenting” between them would stop, besides the typical hugs and kisses. I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t even think about the fact that Michael had threatened to kill a man if I left him. To be honest, I no longer cared about the threats. I did not want to leave._

_While he was away, there were a string of death’s in the Langdon family. An Aunt, an Uncle, two cousins, two family friends….and then Michael’s Mother. Before she died, she had been brought back home from the facility. Every instance that Michael came back across the lake seemed to take a toll on him. He would act stranger and stranger with each funeral, watching them grieve over the death of their loved ones. He became even more mysterious and silent. He would frequently leave the house, coming back at strange hours. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions._

_Sometimes, I would take secret trips up to Hawthorne in the night, Michael would sneak out, and we would take walks through the town. We would make sure we weren’t walking too close or touching too much. Just in case. On one of these such nights, I noticed that Michael seemed very tired. His bright eyes were dull._

_“I haven’t seen Mr. Langdon in a while….”_

_“You know how he is. He frequently leaves.”_

_“It’s been strange, though. Being alone in that big house. It’s just me, John, and the staff.”_

_“I only have a week left, and we will finally be together again.”_

_He looked at me and smiled, latching our hands. A form stepped in front of us. Evaline. In shock, I took my hand from his.  
Her dainty lilt spoke up. _

_“Michael. I knew I would find you out here. I wanted to speak to you.”_

_Michael moved closer to me. I felt his shoulder touch mine._

_“About what? I think we said what we needed to.”_

_His arm went around my shoulder. What was happening? This was not in the plan._

_“I thought that we could discuss the future again. Alone?”_

_She looked towards me._

_“What future?” He responded, coldly. I looked up at Michael at the same time he looked down at me, pulling me in closer._

_“I no longer wish to see you. I’m not interested in you.”_

_She started to speak about closure, but he pressed his lips into my neck, kissing me, up, up, until he reached my lips. And I heard nothing else. She must have gone, because when he finally stopped kissing me, she was nowhere in sight. I looked at him, his face illuminated in the moonlight. He had a sly look in his eyes._

__

_“Michael. What was that? Your Father…”_

_“My Father has no say in this matter.”_

_“But, if he finds out…”_

_“Y/N, I took care of it. You need not worry about him any longer. I promise. You’re safe.”_

_“Did you stop seeing Evaline?”_

_“Yes, of course. Once I found a way to do it without getting you hurt, I immediately stopped seeing her.”_

_“Was she upset? She seemed...”_

_“I do not care if she was or not. You shouldn’t either.”_

_Michael’s time at Hawthorne came to an end. When he returned home, I thought he would be immediately off to find some new place to explore, or thing to study. He seemed to be doing so well at the school, as he left as the top pupil there. We had talked a lot about exploring and travelling. He promised to take me with him while he went to study in different countries. But that is not what happened. When he arrived home, he went straight into one of his bouts of sickness and fever. It was during this bout of sickness that I accompanied Dorian to town and met Mallory for the first time._

_Though Michael was there for the first two days of Mallory’s stay at the house, him and Mallory never laid eyes on eachother. She stayed holed up in my room, while he was sick in his. I had a problem. John already had a governess named Iris. I knew if I could convince Michael that Mallory would be a better governess, than he would find a way to make his Father agree._

_I pushed open Michael’s door, and peeked inside. He was reading in bed. It seemed like things were back to normal in the Langdon household. His color looked good, and his eyes looked clear for the first time in a few weeks. I slid into bed next to him as he made room for me, putting his book down, and slightly stretching._

_“How are you feeling, Michael?”_

_“Better. Did you miss me?”_

_“Of course.” I smiled._

_“You need something, dont you?”_

_He knew me better than anyone. I didn’t fool him. I laid my head on his shoulder. His hand traveled to my hair, lightly brushing through it. I told him all about meeting Mallory, and the terrible life she was living._

_“She has nowhere else to go. You saved me when I was little, and now, I want to do the same with her. I want her to be here with me.”_

_Michael’s hand stopped brushing through my hair. I could feel his tension._

_“I think she would be a great governess for John, is what I mean.”_

_“Y/N, You’re special to me. I knew from the moment I saw you in the garden. I knew you were born to be mine.”_

_Trying to steer the conversation back on course, I said, “Mallory is special to me. She’s educated, and the loveliest person. John is coming back home soon. Now that your Mother is gone, the responsibility for him will probably fall onto me and Iris. And then when will I get to see you?”_

_I snuggled myself against him, leaning into the crook of his arm. He thought for a few minutes, and I let him, staying silent with my cheek pressed against his body._

_“Alright. We will help this Mallory,” he said against my cheek. “Where is she?”_

_“She’s actually here…in my room.”_

_“Why is she in your room?”_

_“Because if your Father randomly comes back, I do not want him catching her before you have a chance to write him and tell him about it. Because of Iris. I’m quite sure your father would not want to hire two governesses. He would consider it a waste of time and funds, especially when I’m here. We need to figure out what to do about her.”_

_“Yes, of course.....”_

_“You are still in contact with your Father through mail, right?”_

_“Yes. I am.”_

_His eyes told me he was lying. But why? Which part was false? He nodded slowly, thinking on things. “I’ll take care of everything, Y/N. But first, let’s sleep. Just for a little bit.”_

_We fell asleep, cheek to cheek. This time, no nightmares dared enter my head._

_When I woke later, Michael was no longer in bed, but sitting at his desk, writing something._

_“Good evening, love.”_

_“What are you writing over there, Michael?”_

_Without turning around, he said,_

_“Nothing for you to worry about. It’s done, by the way.”_

_“What’s done?” I sleepily mumbled, still curled up under the blanket Michael must have placed on me as I slept._

_“Iris is gone. I talked to my Father, and wouldn’t you know, he is desperate for a new governess. Do you know anyone?”_

_“She’s….. gone? How did you get her to leave? Was she angry?”_

_“She went home.”_

_“To Ireland?”_

_He paused and placed his pen down on his desk._

_“I just asked her to leave, and she did.”_

_I was very confused. How did he sort this out in such a short amount of time?_

_“And you saw your Father? He was here? You talked to him?”_

_“Yes, he was here. But he left again.”_

_He turned around to face me. His clothing was slightly askew on his body, but everything seemed normal. He was getting better by the hour. He was smiling._

_“When the sun is setting, and the light is coming through the window and falling on your face like that….you look so beautiful. Like a heavenly creature. What is it about you that triggers happiness in me like this?”_

_“You are so strange, Michael.” I slightly laughed._

_I got up, kissing his cheek, and making to leave._

_“Where are you going?”_

_Turning around, I leaned against his door._

_“I thought I would go check on Mallory. Get her some food, more books, and talk for a while.”_

_“How about you give her dinner, and then come back into my room. Please. I want to talk to you about something.”_

_He looked serious and nervous, which put me on edge right away._

_“Is everything alright?”_

_“Just, come back to me. As soon as you can. Please.”_

_He turned and began to write again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually looked up what kinds of makeup they had back in the day (1850’s-ish) and had a really fun time learning about it. Clothing was also fun to look at. Some girls and guys were a little more extra back then. I would have been one of those extra girls, FOR SURE. My therapist once told me that I make a dramatic entrance haha. TMI? 
> 
> Michael is clearly being manipulative with what he says and does when it comes to reader. Even how slowly or quickly he lets pieces of information slip may be a tactic on his part. Could you accept that he may be doing bad things, but for a reason he deemed ‘good’ (Keeping you around, and with him)? I think everyone, based on their past, experiences, etc, will answer that question differently. 
> 
> Since the reader grew up in an abusive environment, she may not see certain things as abuse, when they technically are, or she may not consider them as important, as she’s been through worse, and therefore doesn’t think on them too much.
> 
> He does care and love her, but, because of the way he grew up, he has found that certain methods, especially manipulative ones, tend to work best for him. What do you think? Has he crossed the line yet, in your opinion? Because he isn’t even close to done.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Smut, violence, violence against animals
> 
> Michael and the reader are finally reunited. Important events take place after their fight at Hawthorne, and the events leading to Michael leaving for two years are revealed.
> 
> (Remember italics indicate something happened in the past!)

“Don't be a fool for the Devil, darling.”  
**― Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire**

After two days’ time, Cordelia related to me that she happened upon the doctor in town, and that he had good news- Michael was finally lucid. I sighed in relief. He told her that I could come around to check on him whenever I desired. She even gave me the go ahead to see him alone, and barely complained that she wasn’t invited to come along.

I went to see him right away. I could no longer hold off. When I arrived at the home, the doctor updated me on his state, and advised me to be gentle with him, as he didn’t remember that last couple of weeks, and had no inkling of who had brought him in. 

I stood outside the door. I could hardly believe that Michael was right behind it. It had been so long since I had heard his voice in a lucid state. I was fearful. That he didn’t love me anymore. That he wouldn’t remember me. Was he….still Michael? The horrendous things I had seen in his home weighed heavy on my mind. The thought that Michael may be changed in some permanent way- that he would be lost to me for the rest of time- alarmed me beyond belief. 

I lightly knocked, before placing my hand on the knob delicately and opening the door. I was not expecting to be greeted by the sight of…..something so ordinary. The drapes had been pulled back and bright sun rays penetrated the windows, bathing everything in honey. The one most exalted by the light was the man who sat in the bed. He looked particularly golden. 

He held an open book and was quietly scribbling notes onto paper as he had always done. His health seemed to have made a quick return. He looked divine, while I had months of worry and sleepless nights written across my countenance. It would almost be infuriating if I didn’t love him so much. God, I loved him. More than any girl loved any boy.

As he looked up and caught sight of me in the entryway, his eyes went wide, and he dropped the book onto the bed, his hand holding the pen still hovering in the air in his shock. His pink lips parted slightly, no sound coming out.

I laughed lightly. 

“Hello to you too, Michael.”

“Y/N…..what are you doing here?”

He whispered it like I might have been a mirage, or a ghost. A blitz of emotions pounded through my being at hearing his sweet voice again. I wanted to hurt him for making me worry, as much as I wanted to press my mouth to his and abandon myself completely in him. It was always the same, time after time. As much as I hurt in all the places he ever touched me, I was always equally healed too.

I entered the room fully, and lightly closed the door behind me. I approached as he gazed into my face, trying to read my emotional state towards him. He shifted his eyes nervously when I refused to look away.

“You were almost dead, Michael. In fact, you would have died if I hadn’t been there to rescue you.”

“How did you find me?”

“Does it really matter? What were you doing in that disgusting hovel?”

He searched my face, looking for answers about how much I knew. Did I know the true reason for his absence from my life? Did I see the carnage at his residence? My visage remained steely and cold as I gave nothing away.

“I….what state was my room in?” 

“Well….. as I presumed would be the case, you weren’t doing too well without someone to clean up after you. It was filthy, of course….. I assume the doctor didn’t tell you what happened?” 

I reveled in his squirming and unrest. He shook his head softly, his eyes still comically wide, looking just like that 12-year-old boy I first met in the garden.

“Your house caught fire. It’s nothing but ashes now. Everything is gone.” 

He took a harsh breath, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead. If one didn’t know him, they would think he was overcome with despair at his loss. I alone could tell that he was greatly relieved at the destruction, and it terrified me. He desperately wanted to keep this secret, and I would let him. For now. And I would keep mine.

He suddenly moved to get up, throwing back the blanket and stepping to the floor. Before he could get too far, I closed the gap between us, and pushed down on his shoulders, stilling him.

“You must rest,” I said, staring him down, until he complied and sat on the bed with a sigh.

He linked his arms behind my back, pulling me onto his lap, and cuddling his face into my chest. His hands moved to wrap around my forearms, and I winced at the iron grip.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.”

“Did you?” 

I wanted to focus solely on the way his lips felt against my sternum, but It was difficult to hide the distrust in my tone. He pulled back, looking up at my eyes, his own narrowing in confusion as he nodded affirmatively. His long fingers pulled at my neck, lightly pressing down while he leaned up.

“Come here and kiss me.”

I put my hand over his mouth, blocking his affections.

“Did you forget how to kiss, Y/N?” 

His lips moved against my palm, slightly turning up at the edges. I grabbed his cheeks roughly with both hands, forcing his eyes to mine. A hint of a smirk remained on his face.

“Why did you never write? It’s been so long since I’ve received any word from you. Do you know how worried I was?”

“I was constantly…studying,” he swallowed harshly. “I didn’t write because the work took up all my time--“

“Dorian said he was coming here to look for you. He left, and then he stopped writing too. How is it that I have been cursed with two men who cannot be bothered to put pen to paper and let me know they’re safe?”

He brow furrowed in displeasure at my words, but his eyes stayed soft if a bit alarmed. 

“I see….I have hurt you again.”

My eyes filled up with tears against my will as I worked quickly to blink them away. I dropped my hands, looking down. 

“It’s been almost two years, Michael. Of course I’m hurt. I started to fear…… that you had moved on with your life and forgotten about me.”

Suddenly, he grabbed my waist with both hands and threw me from his person so that I fell next to him, on my side. Leaning up on my hand, I looked to him in bewilderment at his reaction. He rubbed his jaw quickly and tried to steady his erratic breathing.

When he finally glanced my way and realized what he had done, he held his hands up in apology, turning his body towards me as he spoke.

“I’m sorry….. There are….. things you aren’t aware of. I understand you’re weary with me, and my actions…”

He softly grabbed my chin. 

“Back at Hawthorne, I told you I had a good reason for doing certain things, for staying close to Evaline. I’m telling you that there is a good reason for what I’m doing now, though you may not see it yet.”

When he observed that my angry eyes weren’t warming up as they always did, his voice rose and his grip on my face tightened.

“YOU ARE ALWAYS ANGRY WITH ME LATELY?! WHY CAN YOU NEVER TRUST ME?!” 

“BECAUSE YOU AREN’T THE ONE WHO IS ALWAYS LEFT BEHIND!”

I took a deep breath while pulling myself from his grip and pushing up off the bed. Sitting back down beside him, I calmly started again.

“If I were the one studying and traveling, if I were working on something important- maybe I wouldn’t worry as much. All I have in this life is worrying about you, and constantly waiting on you. It’s tiring. You have no idea what I went through these past years. The least you could have done was written to say you were well, but you never think about me. You’re only concerned with yourself.”

His eyes were wide and panicked; heartsick with how I felt about the situation, but also clueless, as if he didn’t know where this was coming from. I was familiar with this. He never could fully grasp how his actions could tear at people. 

“Please,”

He took my face, peppering it with kisses anywhere his lips could reach, making my eyelashes flutter against his cheeks.

“Forgive me. I have never been able to successfully express just how much I love you. I’m not good with words. That’s obvious to me now. My absence should not have caused you to doubt my love for you. It will never fade. I promise you that. When you finally see what I’ve been doing here, you will understand.”

“Will you tell me the nature of your work, then? 

“No. I don’t want to talk about it today,” he said with finality.

Pinching the bridge of my nose in aggravation, I pulled away from him, I crossing my arms over my chest. 

“Please, Y/N. Seeing your face after so long has….. I’m still in shock. Can I just hold you for a minute? That’s all I want to do right now. Please,” he begged, his voice taking on a whinier edge that was sometimes enduring, and often made me want to rip my hair out.

While I continued to stare at him in silence, his eyes drifted down to my lips. He moved again to kiss me, making it to the corner of my mouth before he was stopped.

“Where is Dorian?”

He dropped his hands down at his sides, roughly grabbing onto the blanket, and breathing harshly, vexation clearly taking over. I forgot myself, and from the desire to soothe his anxieties, grabbed his wrist, lightly stroking the soft skin with my fingertips. He shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t have sent him after me.”

“Why not? He was coming here to study. It just made sense that he would check in on you.”

“We didn’t part on good terms. You know why. But I am ever the gentleman, so when he arrived on my doorstep, I was willing to be civil with him.”

His index finger drew circles on my wrist. As he spoke, he slowly traced it up the blue vein that traveled the length of my arm. The image of decomposing limbs rotting away in a trunk flashed through my mind, and I trembled softly. He tilted his head, studying my reaction to his touch. His voice quieted.

“He was not here five minutes before he was informing me that he was going to marry you. Again. You can imagine how that went.”

The tone was a strange one. I was afraid. I didn’t want anyone to ever know what I was imagining. 

He brought his palms to my face, cradling me. 

“He told me that he would never stop trying to win your heart- that he would wait as long as you needed him to…. Suffice to say, we…..fought about the issue. Dorian no longer exists to me. I haven’t seen him. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard from him, either. Loyalty was never his strong suit.”

Though Michael touched me with a loving hand, I couldn’t deny that there was a coldness lingering on the periphery of the touch. There had always been danger there- building since the early days of our lives together- but now, I felt more than ever that I couldn’t fix what was happening inside of him. Michael had clearly not gone insane. He was aware and logical. He knew what he was doing. This terrified me more than the clutches of insanity. As I pondered, his gaze became intense once more, his imploring eyes once again shifting to my lips. 

I stood and removed his personal items from the bed as I pulled the blanket down.

“Lay.” 

He immediately complied, falling back, and resting his head into the pillow. As I draped the blanket over him, he grabbed my waist, gently tugging.

“Please.” 

Knowing he was not going to give me any of the answers I craved, I gave in and crawled over top his body, my hips sinking onto his own as I laid against his chest. Smiling, I pushed my hands through his silky strands, marveling at the texture and length as he inhaled shakily. 

“Your hair…”

“I haven’t the time to fix it.”

“You should keep it this way. It’s lovely. It looks like a river of gold.”

He held me tight, my chest pressed to his, his warm hands drifting under the bottom of my dress and holding onto the skin of my upper thighs. A memory of a time long past leapt through my consciousness, making me hazy with longing and desire. A yearning to go back; to fix this strange chasm that rose between us, to have my Michael back- when we were both younger, and less complicated. My heart physically hurt at the sensation. 

“Your forgiveness has always overwhelmed me.”

I reached up and used my fingertips to softly close his eyes, and then I kissed him on each lid as they fluttered under my lips. I moved down a bit, tucking my face into the space between his neck and shoulder, trying to get comfortable. 

“You have me, Y/N. It doesn’t matter where I go, or how long I’m gone, I will never truly be away from you. Nothing can break that bond. Everything carries me back to you.”

His breathing was evening out, his heart slowing to a natural rhythm. I forgave him, as I always did, but there was reservation there. I would never truly think of him the same way again. _My_ Michael, the boy I had always known, would _never_ leave me for two years, no matter the circumstance. Something was rising between us, and I didn’t know how if I could force it away anymore. I held back a cry that surprised me with its sudden force to break free.

“Before you left, there were so many things I wanted to tell you. I didn’t get the chance. In the morning, you were just…gone.”

“I couldn’t say goodbye. It’s too harsh of a word for us. I just couldn’t….I would never hurt you on purpose, beloved.”

When I didn’t respond, I felt him tense under me. 

“You believe me, right?” his voice cracked with feeling.

If all it took to fix this mysterious thing between us was my undying belief in him, his actions, and his words…..I couldn’t help but think we may be doomed. Because if I was honest with myself, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t. I knew he was lying. He was hiding something horrible; I was sure of it. My fear and suspicion remained firmly embedded into my being, but the emotion in his voice softened me towards him as it had always done. 

His eyes shot open. 

“Wait.”

I raised my head, and he sat up with me straddled on his lap. He removed his hands from underneath my clothing, and unpinned my hair, letting it fall against my shoulders. He looked at me in his reverent way, the way that always made me weak. 

“My angel….”

My emotions threatened once again.

“Why did you have to leave? _Why_?”

His hands wrapped through my hair with frustration, his palms laying on both sides of my head as he pulled down harshly, angling my chin up to him. 

“I _said_ I don’t want to talk about it.”

Then his lips collided with mine, our teeth lightly bumping in the process. The kiss jostled me, making me lose my bearings on his lap, which in turn loosened his grip on me. I fell from the bed with a dull thud. 

From my place on the floor, I looked up at him, my annoyance meeting his shock. He pressed his tongue into the side of his teeth, holding back a laugh as he tried to conceal his smile. We both started to laugh then, and we couldn’t stop. I had started the day with hope, and suspicion followed that. Now we were sinking back comfortably into our former dynamic; one where we could easily be together and forget anything that didn’t involve the two of us or the things we cherished most. Mainly, eachother. But did that still hold true for him? Was I still the thing he cherished most? For now, I would have to push the dark thoughts to the back of my mind. I would deal with them another day. I just wanted to let myself feel happiness that the moment had finally come. I had found Michael, and we could go home.

I got up, dusting off the back of my dress, and smiling in spite of myself. Before I could feel that the energy in the room had shifted, Michael was up and on me, hoisting me into his arms, and pressing my back roughly against the wall next to the shut door. I wrapped my legs around him as his lips met mine with bruising force. He rolled his hips into me like he wasn’t in control of their movement, and one hand came away from my waist and tugged through my hair. 

When his tongue swiped across my bottom lip, I met it with my own, gasping at the sensation between my legs. He pushed his tongue even further into my mouth, and I began to lightly suck on it. I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but it felt right. He didn’t seem to mind, as he groaned, and his fingers gripped onto my hair harder. 

He suddenly pulled back and tilted his head, pressing his mouth to the skin below my ear. His lips touched my sternum next, and my eyes fluttered closed as I felt him drag his tongue slowly from the center of my chest, to my neck, up my jaw, and to the corner of my mouth.

At the sound of a throat clearing, me and Michael froze and looked to the right. The doctor was standing abashedly in the door frame, cheeks pink. 

“Miss, you may escort Mr. Langdon back home. He is perfectly suitable for travel, or…whatever else he may want to do.” 

Michael slowly let me slide down the wall as he smirked at the doctor’s insinuation. My feet hit the floor and I immediately made to move away, but he put his hands on either side of my head, leaning his whole body weight against me, and effectively pinning me in place as the doctor stared on with mild distaste. He nuzzled his face into my neck, giving it a light nip as I yelped in surprise. 

“Take me home, Y/N.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” I blushed, refusing to look his way.

…………..

After removing myself from Michael’s clutches, I convinced him to leave with me. It wasn’t too difficult to make a hasty retreat, as he didn’t have anything with him. Everything else had burned in the flames, except for his book and pen, and the items I had dressed him in before the doctor took him away. He was still wearing them, and they were beginning to look rough. He would need alternate things to wear. We planned to stop at the shops in town before making our way back to Cordelia’s. 

As we walked in the still bright day, we made light conversation. He never let go of my hand, cleaving to my side. I couldn’t help but notice the fearful looks from those we passed on the street. This was nothing new. I was used to people before afraid of Michael. People back home would refer to him as the “Mad Langdon boy,” whispering amongst themselves. Small-mindedness and boredom tended to do that.

As we got closer to our destination, I knew I needed to tell him where it was that we’d be staying. I also knew he wouldn’t like it. He hated being locked in with strangers. I felt the same, but was used to pretending to keep the peace, whereas Michael _could_ act like he wasn’t put off by others but _chose_ not to. 

“By the way….we’re ….staying with Cordelia.”  
“Who?”

“Cordelia, Michael. You have met. Many times. You know her uncle really well.” 

I could see the recognition flash in his eyes, and then a look of slight panic. He cleared his throat. 

“Of course….Yes, I remember her.” 

“Mallory is there too.” 

He stopped in his tracks, pulling back on my hand harshly.

“You brought Mallory?” 

“Yes…..I didn’t want to travel alone.”

His mouth opened slightly, his eyes narrowing as annoyance laced his features. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t seen you in so long… I just…wanted to be alone with you.” 

I felt hot all over as I took his face in my hands and leaned up to kiss his nose. 

“We can be alone all we want when we get back home. Our _real_ home.”

He put his hands over mine, leaning into my touch. 

“We won’t be alone. Not in the way I want. Mallory will be there. And that brat.” 

“Your brother has grown a lot since you’ve been gone. And Mallory will be spending her time taking care of that “brat.” Don’t worry so much!”

“Can they not go live….. elsewhere? Together?” 

“Don’t say that! She’s my best friend….I want her near me.” 

Michael dropped his hands from mine as the cool breeze blew over my skin. I almost felt guilty about my relationship with Mallory. In the time Michael had been gone, we had grown close. She became everything to me, almost taking his place as the main source of comfort in my life, but…. with a slight a degree of difference. She didn’t expect anything from me. It was the purest thing I had ever had, and I cherished it. My love for her would always be distinct and divergent from my love for him. He could never intrude upon that space, and I had the feeling he knew it, and despised it immensely. 

“Even if they did leave, we’d still have your Father to contend with. He’s bound to make his way home one day.” 

He glared.

“You have still been receiving letters from your Father? He’s alright?”

“Yes,” he took my hand, walking forward once again, his face betraying nothing as he sighed deeply.

“He hasn’t been in communication as much. He’s gone…. underground for the time being.” 

……………….

While Michael browsed the shop, I stayed outside, basking in the sun’s warmth for as long as I could before it inevitably went away. I leaned against the brick of the building, closing my eyes, and daydreaming. It had been many peaceful moments of blissful solitude and quiet before I felt someone’s eyes linger over me.  
Mine flew open and were met with a familiar face. It was the man I had pushed into the water near Michael’s destroyed home. I opened my mouth to speak, fearing violence or harsh words by the way he was staring at me. 

“I--“

“The Devil is holding your hand, girl.”

He pointed as Michael made his way out, his eyes settling on the strange man whose movements became jittery once they locked eyes. Michael stared at the man, refusing to look away. As he stumbled from us, he glanced back a few times with obvious distress. I continued to track him until he disappeared around a corner, at which point Michael finally looked at me, his tension melting away.

“Ready?”

“Do you know that man?”

“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone,” he shrugged.

……………….

_After our fight about Evaline, Michael had asked me to come back to see his room after seeing to Mallory’s needs. I was nervous about what he wanted to say to me, so I dallied, and spent more time with her than I originally planned. We talked about whatever topic came into our heads as she ate dinner._

_She was so easy to talk to. I was thrilled that I would have another girl in the home; one that was close to my age, friendly, and smart. And Michael was back from Hawthorne. I couldn’t wait to introduce them and hoped it wouldn’t end up smashed to pieces like our relationship with Dorian. When I noticed her eyes start to droop sleepily, we said goodnight, and I got ready for bed before going back to Michael._

_I was walking down the hall as I began taking my hair down. I jumped when I realized he was already standing in his doorway, waiting for me. His face was sure and as beautiful as ever. The flood of intimacy and adoration I felt for him then was overwhelming. I had never felt anything like it. As I came to stand in front of him, we smiled at each other timidly._

_“You wanted to speak to me?”_

_“I’d rather not talk tonight,” he said lowly._

_In my confusion, I started to turn towards my own room._

_“Goodnight then, Michael.”_

_He reached for my hand and pulled my chest against his own as he kissed each knuckle, caressing the last one tenderly with his lips as tears pooled in his eyes._

_“Don’t leave me alone.”_

_My breath hitched as I let him gently lead me into his room, where he shut the door. He continued to stare anywhere but at me but refused to lighten his grip on my hand. I deftly grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. I felt helpless. I couldn’t help but think that he had hurt someone, and I’d have a long night ahead of me._

_  
I wiped his tears, and he leaned his head on my shoulder, his body relaxing slightly as I ran my hands through his golden curls._

_“It’s alright, Michael. What ever has happened- just tell me. I will help you. Whatever you need….I will gladly do it.”_

_“You will?” he sniffled._

_“Yes. What can I do?”_

_I looked at him, a question in my gaze, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. He was slightly shaking, and his heart was pounding hard. He cupped my cheeks, intensity falling over his countenance._

_“I want you to have every part of me, Y/N, especially the part that no one else can ever have.”_

_My eyes shifted back and forth between his, trying to understand what exactly he was saying. My pulse jumped. Of all the heavenly times he had looked at me, he had never looked at me in quite this manner._

_“You and me. All night. Will you stay with me?”_

_All the monumental and insignificant moments of our life together flashed through my memory as I finally understood what he wanted from me. He was looking at me like he could teach me everything I needed to know about my body, and I believed him, and craved no other teacher. His face appeared so tender and warm that I wanted to melt into the earth and drift away on the look alone. He watched me, patiently waiting._

_I nodded. My stomach was filled with a nervous energy that I couldn’t control._

_Suddenly, we were moving. He led me to his bed, and softly laid me down. Crawling over top of me, he leaned in, brushing his cheek against mine._

_“Thank you. For trusting me with this.”_

_After a few brief seconds, he sat up on his knees and lifted his shirt above his head. It was just his torso, but I felt my breath leave me as I gazed upon it. On a whim, I sat up, pressing a kiss to his sternum. He smiled, breathing in deeply before lifting off my dress. The cold air took me by surprise. I was completely naked all too suddenly and he just stared and stared. I felt as if I would faint if he didn’t do or say something soon._

_Putting a hand on the center of my chest, he lightly pushed me back into the bed, his palm keeping me in place. As I squirmed under his hold, I saw an alarming glint pass over his eyes for a brief flash, but was assuaged when he leaned down, his lips passing over the skin of my neck as he gently nipped at my throat. My hands went into his hair, lightly pulling, and I pressed my own lips to his neck and jaw._

_I jolted as he suddenly moved his hand, his thumb grazing over a nipple, and lightly rubbing. His mouth moved to my ear as he straddled me, knees placed on either side of my hips, and both hands now firmly on my chest, grasping. He bit into my throat just as his hands pinched both nipples, and my eyes slammed shut._

__

__

_  
He moved off his knees, his hips leaning into mine as he slipped between my legs, pressing his body into mine. He moved against me as he continued to bite my throat, sucking my skin into his mouth as he went. All I could do was gasp at the unfamiliar sensation. He was speeding through the motions, like he didn’t know exactly what to do, but he wanted to do absolutely everything anyway._

_One hand strayed down. His long fingers were drawing featherlight shapes on my inner thighs, circling and circling bare skin wherever he could find it, his mouth and hips still slowly moving._

_I opened my eyes when I felt his lips ghost over mine. At some point, I must have punctured my lips with my teeth, as I was greeted with the sight of Michael smiling and licking my blood into his mouth. His lips and chin were tinged a lovely shade of red from a substance that came from my own body, and I shivered as he swallowed it down._

_He moved down my body, his hands and mouth sliding warmly over my stomach as he went. He rested his face below my bellybutton, his eyes staring into mine as I rubbed his soft cheek. He didn’t break our eye contact as he ran his fingers from the top to the bottom of my core. My body tensed everywhere. When he pushed his thumb against a certain spot, a sound unwillingly left my throat, and my hips rose up on their own accord. He lifted his head, studying every reaction I had to his touch. He caressed his thumb back and forth, and my back arched. When it did, he lowered his lips, lightly sucking a nipple into his warm mouth. My head fell back further into the pillow and I clenched my eyes shut, grabbing the blankets around me._

_“Is this how you imagined it in your dreams, angel?”_

_I glanced up, looking past my nipple, wet and shiny with his spit, and was met with his playful smirk, and lust-filled eyes. He kissed my thigh as his fingers continued to move against me, gliding effortlessly up and down my soaked folds. I began to drift away again, my eyes closing in my bliss, when I felt him bit down on my leg, hard. When my gaze flew to his, he slid a finger inside of me, and my legs tried to close around him. I couldn’t stop the reactions of my body when he began thrusting into me._

_He seemed to be focused intently on that area, watching how his appendage seemed to disappear and reappear. I was only focused on him. He leaned down, his breath exhaling over me as I spasmed under him. He moved his thumb, replacing it with hips lips and sending a bolt of warm and intense pleasure through me. His hungry gaze ate up my reaction, and he quickly turned his face down, pressing his tongue flat against me and dragging up from where his finger penetrated my body. I writhed underneath him as his tongue circled and lapped._

_Something started to build monumentally as my hands vined through his curls, yanking a bit too hard. His groans made me cry out and move my hips against his mouth. He answered this by grabbing me under my knee and pulling me closer as he pressed his mouth harder into me. My eyes felt heavy with pleasure._

_  
I felt him softly slip his finger out before shoving two back into my body and harshly pumping. My eyes rolled back at the strange pressure. He was wildly running his tongue over every part he could reach, chasing me with his mouth when I tried to shift away from the intensity. He ran his tongue back down and over his fingers moving inside me, and just as he quickly darted back up through my folds. His lips wrapped around me, harshly pulling and suctioning. It was almost too much. A graze of his teeth against me caused something to snap, filling me with a pleasure so intense, I couldn’t make a sound as my mouth opened on a silent scream. My body seemed to convulse forever as Michael groaned and tried his best to hold me down as my wetness dripped down his fingers and chin, and I fluttered wildly around him._

_I couldn’t think. I was awash on a hazy, glowy river as I seemed to sink further into the bed. Michael kept his fingers inside of me with one hand on my hip as he laid against my inner thigh. I felt as if I could fall asleep, and I almost did until I felt him move his hand from my hip and press his fingers firmly against my wet, oversensitive center. My body jolted away at the brush of pain, and my eyes shot open. His widened at my reaction, lighting up as he smiled widely before slipping his fingers out of me completely. I winced at the sudden emptiness._

_He moved up, hovering over me, and I wrapped my hands behind his head, pulling down to kiss him. His mouth was wet, and so were the fingers that he danced across my cheeks. Our bare chests pressed together as he clutched me to him, tightly. He kissed my face, lips drifting everywhere, whispering apologies as he went._

_  
He bumped his nose into mine, as he took me in nervously._

_“I……must admit, I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to this next part, Y/N.”_

_A look passed between us as we both thought about Evaline. He had experimented with this stranger, and forever altered what our first time might have been like, and we were both sorry about it. I hated feeling so greedy, like this wasn’t enough. It was. But I couldn’t deny that I was bothered- imagining him doing this with her._

_His lips trembled, and his eyes shifted down. I kissed his forehead and ran my fingers through his hair._

_“We can figure it all out together…..Or, we don’t have to do it at all. We can wait.”_

_“No,” Michael replied quickly, kissing me once before leaning up, and getting off the bed._

_I blushed as his hands reached to remove his pants. My stomach flipped when he was completely naked before me. I quickly looked down, and then back up, not knowing where to rest my eyes in a moment so intimate. He himself looked unsure as his knees hit the bed, and he moved back over me, tracing my entire body with his gaze._

_“Has Evaline ever seen you….like this?”_

_He stilled over me, as his worried eyes glanced to mine, and then looked away, effectively answering my question. Why do I do this to myself? It’s as if I treasure being tortured when a moment feels too pure. I have always been this way; like I am trying to fall into the role my caretaker always predicted for me. When she told me I was doomed; that no matter where my life took me, I would always be unhappy._

_He laid at my side, as we both looked towards the ceiling._

_“Y/N, when I’m alone with you, the rest of the world disappears, and I forget myself completely. The anger, pain, regret- it no longer exists for that stretch of time. If people could see into my heart, I’d be…..almost embarrassed about how happy it would appear.”_

_I turned to look at him, and my heart seized at his confession. This is how it must feel when the land shakes off Winter, and Spring finally shows. His face is smooth, and his features are sharp and precise, but the effect on the eye is anything but. This close to him, I can smell his scent- sometimes he smells of cinnamon, sometimes something I can never quite describe. When he touches me, I can smell him on me for hours, until, without my noticing, it drifts away softly, on the wind. I want to roam in the wild gardens of his being. I love him madly._

_I turned my body into his, pressing a kiss into the corner of his swollen mouth._

_“Can we get under the blankets?” I whispered._

_He nodded and moved to the side, pulling out the blanket from beneath us. As we climbed in, he moved closer to me, pressing his hand onto his length, and clenching his eyes shut with his touch. His hand fell, and I tentatively reached out, wrapping my hand lightly around him, mimicking the motion he previously made._

_  
He gasped, his hips rocking forward, sliding himself further into my hand. Glancing down, I noticed beads of moisture on the tip. I brushed my thumb across it, wanting to explore everything. He trembled under my touch, his eyes closing tightly. It was intoxicating; producing such an effect in a man who had always overwhelmed me so much._

_As I moved my hand down his length, I used my other hand to run my nails across his inner thigh. I wanted to touch him everywhere- see if all his previously unexplored skin was just as soft. His breath hitched harshly, and he grabbed my wrists, stopping my ministrations.  
He quickly laid me down, sinking between my hips. His head dropped to my shoulder, and he whimpered as his cock slid against my body. He instinctually rocked against me. Before I knew what was happening, he was lined up, and readying to push in. I tensed, grabbing his hair lightly and pulling his face up until our eyes met._

_“Go slow, ok?”_

_He kissed my temple before grabbing my thigh and wrapping it around his hip. I kept it there as his hand came up to my face. He pressed his forehead against mine, looking at me for a few seconds before I felt him sink into me slowly. My eyes widened. I had heard woman talk about this experience- I had only heard two things. It was very lovely, or it was very torturous. I felt a dull pressure that was strange to me, and a sensation of being too full. It was a bit uncomfortable, but not unwelcome. He stilled himself, pressing his lips to mine and allowing me to get used to the stretch. He shook above me as I ran my hands over his back, caressing his skin and trying to calm my heart._

_He pulled his hips back, sliding out of me, and slowly back in. The only thing I could truly focus on was Michael’s face above me. His eyes were closed, his rose petal mouth slightly open, his breathing heavy. It felt holy. This was enough to mark itself in my mind as a highlight that I would forever remember- a moment where I lived under Michael’s warmth and gaze in such a profound manner._

_His pace increased as he kissed over my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead_

_“What would people think ….if they knew you lost your womanhood to the “mad Langdon boy-“ and before marriage, nonetheless?”_

_They would think it was a sin. They’d think me a harlot who’d be cast into hellfire. It didn’t even cross my mind until he asked me. I never thought about my soul or eternal damnation, especially when it came to Michael. I never thought about God._

_I gripped his shoulders as he glanced down, watching how our bodies worked together. His eyes rolled back as he groaned deep in his chest._

_“They wouldn’t like it.”_

_He grabbed my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. The smell of cinnamon and spice filled the space as he looked at me with a possessive glint in his eye._

_“Do_ you _like it?”_

_“Yes,” I said resolutely._

_“What would your God think?”_

_“The only God I worship…is you.”_

_The dark in his eyes magnified, and then disappeared completely._

_“I love you,” he whispered, dropping my face from his grip as he gave me one hard thrust. My whole body tensed as he kept moving into me at this new, furious pace._

_It ended so quickly as he dropped his face into my neck, biting down a moan. I felt warmth spill into me as he fell into my body, taking my breath. He continued to hold me closely, his body shaking._

_Whispering a soft apology, he began to move away, but I wrapped my arms tightly around him, forcing him back down. He breathed against my neck, resting inside me as I held on. After several minutes, he kissed my jaw. I let my limbs fall from him, as he sat up._

_He looked at the place between my legs, pushing a finger against my folds and gathering up the blood and bodily fluids. He examined it in the candlelight, before looking at me._

_“Are you…happy?”_

_A feeling of dread, and a deep longing went through me. I was filled with an emotion I couldn’t name, as though I was making a pact with the Devil. But Michael’s love could always soothe the burden of any destiny that may befall me._

_“Will you promise that you’ll always come back?”_

_He titled his head at my question._

_“No matter how long you’re away, where you go, what you do….please come back to me. No matter what.”_

_He wrapped his finger around mine, our fluids and my blood resting between our skin in a promise._

_“I will. I promise.”_

_……………………_

  
We made it back to Cordelia’s home, only to find it empty of both girls. Michael seemed relieved at the unexpected silence. As I lit the fire, he swiftly retreated into the kitchen without a word. 

I stared into the flames, mesmerized by the warmth and color, jumping slightly as I heard a clatter in the kitchen. I got up and made my way towards the sound, pausing when I saw Michael reaching up, searching for something in a cupboard high above him. His shirt had risen, and a bit of his back was exposed to my gaze. I wanted to kiss him there. Everywhere, really. I continued to stare until I heard my name being called softly. Glancing up, I saw Michael looking over his shoulder, his eyes locked on me. 

“Does Cordelia have a strainer? For tea?” 

“I’m not sure….” 

He closed the cupboard. 

“We will just have to drink it with the leaves at the bottom,” he sighed pretentiously. 

I smiled as he handed me a cup, and we walked back to the fire. I sat on the floor and looked to him. The way he drank his tea- his eyes softly narrowing with each sip- was bewitching. I couldn’t look away. He put his tea down next to me, before leaving the room, calling out “one moment,” as he went.  
When he came back, he had a book in his hand. He held it up as he sat next to me. 

“Will you? Like old times?” 

I took the book from his grasp and set my tea off to the side, as I flattened onto my back. He pushed his cup away happily, laying on his side and moving closer so he could rest his head on my stomach. 

We read for hours, getting lost in the warmth of the fire and each other. Eventually, we started to yawn sleepily. My voice trailed off, and I lowered the book to the floor, putting my hand through his hair instead, and resting it there. He breathed softly against me as we laid together with our eyes closed, not sleeping, but not fully awake. 

When Cordelia and Mallory suddenly waltzed in the house, they were surprised to see us there; Michael’s head still pressed against me, and his arm twined around me. 

She smiled in delight, clapping her hands together as Mallory looked at us and smiled.

“I thought you two would still be at the doctor's! I did not expect you today. If I knew, Mallory and I would have waited for you to come home. Us two girls have been out exploring the town and eating sweets, haven’t we Mallory?”

Mallory looked fondly at Cordelia, and I gazed upon their unforeseen closeness with faint jealousy. Michael had sat up when the girls began to speak. Now both women had their eyes trained on him. They watched him closely, and he looked between them, uncomfortably. He helped me sit up, before turning back to them.

“Cordelia,” he nodded.

“And _you_ must be Mallory.”

She fidgeted under his attention, as she often did around any male we encountered. 

“Yes, sir.”

He smirked and I narrowed my eyes at the menacing tilt of it. He didn’t take his gaze off her quivering form. Cordelia noticed the interaction, and quickly interrupted.

“I’ve treasured the time that Y/N and Mallory have spent here. I’ve loved having women around. It’s been so lonely since my Uncle left.”

Michael’s eyes flicked to hers coldly. 

“It will be nice to have a male energy around here too! I am glad you’re alright—”

“Y/N and Mallory will be leaving tomorrow morning,” he interrupted. 

My head snapped to him. We had not talked about this. 

“Once I see the girls off, I must leave too. I still have some work to do before-“ 

“You’re not coming with us?”

He looked at me, swallowing loudly as he saw the anger spark up in my eyes. I crossed my arms, turning away from him, my body slightly shaking with incredulous rage. What else could he possibly have to do here? And after this place almost killed him? I was infuriated. 

Suddenly, the fire was too hot, Michael was too close, and Cordelia and Mallory’s stares of concern were too much to bear. I pushed up off the floor, striding out of the room. I heard tiny footsteps running behind me. Mallory popped up at my side. 

“Y/N, would you like to take a walk?” 

Her face was so sweet and full of love for me that I almost started to cry. I pushed back the tears, nodding as she took my arm, leading me to the door. She pulled my cape around my shoulders, closing the clasp at my sternum. When she opened the door, I saw the sun was setting on the horizon. Darkness was enveloping the land. 

We both turned at the sound behind us. Michael made his way outside, shutting the door, and pushing past us.

“I’m coming.”

I rolled my eyes, as Mallory shifted beside me uncomfortably.

Mallory linked her arm through mine again and pulled me forward as we walked slowly. Michael slowed, taking leisurely pace behind us. I could feel his energy radiating towards me, trying to gather around me, and ascertain how I was feeling, and if I would feel the same later. He didn’t like our silence. He wondered if Mallory and I were secretly communicating with looks. We were. 

She gazed at me, and I looked back. I didn’t have to say anything. She knew I was happy to have her there; she was like a salve to my soul. The fresh air and the smell of leaves and fires burning helped calm my mood substantially. 

We turned a different way than the usual and came across a dark patch of woods at a dead end. Mallory and I stopped near the clearing, staring into the void. Michael stepped up beside us with his arms laced behind his back. His eyes danced with amusement as he watched us.

“You know, I’ve heard stories about these woods.”

I was still refusing to talk to him, so I said nothing. I glanced at Mallory and noticed a look of alarm. 

“People have been going missing around here. They say the fiend who is murdering those innocent souls’ lives in the woods. These woods, in fact. He doesn’t just kill them, though. Sometimes, when he’s feeling especially devilish, he will cook parts of their body, and eat the meat from their bones. When he can’t find a human to eat, he lives on rats.” 

He stared into Mallory eyes, feeding off her fear, becoming energized because of it.

“Stop it! Mallory, Michael is a liar. Do not believe anything he says.”

He looked to me, and tilted his head, throwing me a look that told me I was trying his patience. Mallory looked in the woods. Suddenly, she screamed, loud and long, stumbling back, and falling down onto the dirty street. 

With wide eyes, I sank to my knees, touching her shoulders and imploring her to tell me what was wrong. Her haunted brown eyes rolled around wildly, before sinking back into her skull. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she fell into a faint. Michael towered above us, looking down on the scene, hands folded behind him. 

“Michael, we need to get her home. Help me.”

He sighed, and bent down, putting his hands underneath her and pushing her up against his chest as he stood. He carried her down the cobblestone streets as I followed beside him silently. When we reached Cordelia’s, I turned the knob, holding the door open for them. He walked inside, lingering by the foot of the stairs as he waited for me to join him. Instead, I stepped back out. His brow raised in confusion.

“Come inside,” he whispered.

I shook my head.

“I need fresh air. I’ll only be a minute,” I said hastily, shutting the door against him.

I sighed as I leaned against the wood. Why did I think this would go any differently than our friendship with Dorian. Michael was always parasitic when it came to me and my love for others. He couldn’t abide it. I needed them and wasn’t willing to let them go. We were at an impasse. I also loved Michael, and yet, I couldn’t deny he made my life harder. He disoriented me- sending me from a rapturous moment to tortuous one in the blink of an eye. He had abandoned me two times, and now, once I had finally found him, he planned to send me back alone. 

The love and dread I felt was a familiar embrace. I needed him. I needed him to love me and hurt me, in succession. I couldn’t admit out loud that I had started to feel as if I didn’t exist without his touch and attention. I was in a constant war with my conflicting thoughts. One side of me was sure he would never intentionally hurt me, while the other knew that he did. All the time.

………….

_  
I woke up in the early morning feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I inhaled deeply, taking in my dark surroundings. The sun had not yet come out of hiding. As my lungs settled, I reached my hand over, feeling soft, cold sheets under my palm. Michael’s side of the bed was absent of his warmth._

_After the intimate events of the previous night, I had the strong desire to tell him everything I was too frightened to reveal before. I wanted him to know without a doubt that I loved him, more than anyone, even more than myself. That I felt that I had known him forever- lifetimes past, and lifetimes we had not lived yet- that we were never strangers, not for a moment. I longed to sit by the fire and read aloud to him, the Greek myth about the origins of love. How humans were originally born with two faces, four hands, and four legs. They were monstrous, but they were content, and powerful. Afraid of their power, Zeus cut them in two. Forevermore, they were miserable, longing for the other to be woven back into their skin. They were doomed to spend their lives searching for their other half, trying to be complete once more. Hoping desperately to heal the wounds of humanity through their missing piece._

_I lit a candle next to the bed and slipped back into my nightdress with a blush heating up my cheeks. I opened his door, peeking out in the hall. It was empty and silent. My eyes drifted down and landed on my journal. It was perched against the edge of the wall, a piece of paper lodged into the top. My heart dropped as I grabbed it and opened it with shaky hands. It was a letter._

_‘Y/N,_

_I know you will be angry with me when you see this letter. Can I make you understand somehow? I am not sure. You have begun to mean the world to me. You are meaning itself. You have planted hope in my being- a dark, deeply hidden, abandoned place where no person dared walk before. Except for you. And now that I love you, now that I hope, I cannot imagine myself without it, or without you. Can you understand?_

_You once asked me if it was worth it- the way I always seem to hurt you. Maybe you will be anguished to hear my answer. Love and anguish go hand and hand in my mind. What is love without it? Before suffering, I don’t know…_

_I wish I knew how to say these words to you in person. I have never been able to. I don’t know how to convey my feelings to you, so that for one moment, you would understand just how much I love you. You are me, and I am you. We cannot truly be apart, for we are the same._

_I’m finally ready to find my purpose. I’m going away to study, Y/N, but also…for you. I cannot tell you why. Not yet. But soon enough. You will think me selfish for leaving this way. I could not say goodbye in person. I’m not strong enough. I wouldn’t have been able to leave, and I must. So, what was I to do, my love?  
My Father will be on a long trip. He will not bother you. You and your new friend can continue living in the house without interruption. _

_Please, remember that your life is not just your own. It also belongs to those that love you._

_I love you, so please take care of yourself._

_For me._

_I will write to you when I can._

_Michael’_

_As tears pooled in my eyes, another page fell out of the journal. It was the letter I had never read. The one Michael slipped in my book before he was sent to Hawthorne. The scrawl is undeniably his- his perfect but frantic handwriting._

_‘Do not forget me.’_

_I dropped both notes onto the ground and went to find Mallory. I was looking for comfort and hoping that this new friend wouldn’t feel strange about me looking for it in her. Thankfully for me, she didn’t. She took me in her arms and let me cry. I cried so hard that nothing further would drip from my swollen eyes. I cried until my body was heavy with fatigue._

_Every day went like this, for a long time, until my eyes went dry for good. I stopped writing, reading, and exploring. I dealt with the household duties and went through the motions of a life until all too suddenly, it seemed like it was months later._

_John had finally come back from Mr. Langdon’s uncle’s home. Him and Mallory were adjusting to each other perfectly. I could tell he already loved her, even after such a short time. As did I. She did her duties and she cherished them. She loved the routine of it at all._

_Many days, I would watch them frolic in the tall grass outside the home, playing after their studies. That is what I was doing when I saw Dorian rowing across the lake towards the dock. I hadn’t seen him since the disastrous party at Hawthorne. It seemed like a million years ago. I got up, wiping the dust from my dress as I walked to meet him._

_He smiled brightly. The most I could muster was a small wave. He practically ran to me, grabbing me up in his arms and spinning me ‘round. A smile was forced on my face, which I quickly disguised. He grabbed my upper arms, holding me out from him, and examining me with slight concern._

_“Forgive me, Y/N. I should have come way before now. The only reason I held off so long is because I knew you were safe.”_

_“Safe from what?”_

_“Michael.”_

_Hearing his name out loud caused me to shudder. His name had not been said in the months since his departure. Those two simple syllables cut through the haze and fog of my brain like a bullet. He saw my reaction, and believing me to be afraid, hugged me to him._

_“It’s okay now. He’s gone.”_

_At this, I broke, sobbing into my old friend’s chest. He pulled back, his eyes fluttering with realization, and simmering frustration as he recognized my tears were caused by pain and not fear._

_“You’re still waiting on him to come home. You’re still writing to him, aren’t you?”_

_I was ashamed, but I knew I couldn’t lie to him. I nodded, and in a panic, he shook his head._

_“I have to tell you something important. Michael came to visit me before he left. “Visit” wouldn’t be the right word. He broke down my door late in the night. When I woke, he was sitting in a chair next to my bed, staring at me…in the pitch black. He didn’t seem…..right. There was something dark about him, Y/N. I cannot explain it. And I felt as if my life was in grave danger.”_

_We both jumped as Mallory and John screamed in glee across the field. Tensely, we looked at each other once more as he lowered his voice._

_“I grabbed a hunting knife that I keep near my bed and had to physically force him out. His eyes were so dark and filled to the brim with hatred. With hatred for me. He said that it didn’t matter- that he was leaving that morning- that you were his and you always would be. I….fear for your safety, Y/N.”_

_I plopped down onto the dock. I pulled my knees up to my chest._

_“Remember this?”_

_Above me, Dorian pulled out a clasp that Michael had given him when we were younger. The crimson red flashed brilliantly in the rays of the sun._

_“Yes, Michael gave it to you for your birthday. I remember.”_

_“That’s not quite how I remember it. I remember that_ you _gave it to me. That’s why it’s so special to me.”_

_As my eyes left his and looked towards the ground, he cleared his throat._

_“No matter. I consider it my lucky charm. I wear it whenever something scares me, or when I need a little extra magic in my day. I happened to be wearing it on the night Michael came to me. I had passed out early, still in my clothes. When he saw that I was wearing the pendant, he said the strangest thing…..”_

_I watched him intently as he stared off into the distance._

_“What did he say?”_

_“It was so odd. He told me that he wanted his pendant back. That it could never truly be mine….because I was already dead. And he doesn’t want dead things wearing what belongs to him.”_

_More alarming than the words were how they made Dorian feel. He finally looked into my eyes and I could see the fear written in them. It made me wonder what else had happened that night- what he wasn’t telling me. He sat next to me on the dock._

_“You should be afraid of Michael, Y/N.”_

_A memory came to me then. Me, Michael, and Dorian sitting outside in the Summertime, the sky pink with the approach of twilight. We were young then, and still had fun together._

_Michael had found a mouse- one he was particularly fond of. He raised it from the time it was a baby, and with his affections, it flourished. I had never seen him behave this way with any living creature, besides myself. He would spend time with it every day; lavishing it in attention, praise, and soft touches._

_Eventually, we began to sneak it into the house when it got cold. I treasured seeing him give his love to something so vulnerable. That all ended when Michael made a mistake. He was playing with the mouse with his bedroom door open. It darted from his hand and out the door before we could even think to act. When the Langdon’s were greeted by the sight of a small rodent scurrying through their kitchen, they reprimanded him, and told him he couldn’t keep it._

_Tears cascaded down his panic-stricken face as he held the little thing in his hand, stroking its fur softly, and kissing its tiny head. He lifted the mouse to eye-level._

_“WHY DID YOU RUN? WHY?!”_

_He screamed at the mouse as he shook it, harshly._

_“MICHAEL!”_

_He stopped, turning to look at me at the sound of my raised voice; his eyes wide and bloodshot._

_“I will take him outside for you. Alright?”_

_I held out my hand, walking slowly towards him. When I made it to his side, he turned from me, yanking his arm from my grasp as his wrist flicked forward, throwing the mouse through the air- its body careening and hitting the wall with a sickening thud and crunch._

_My mouth dropped open in horror. Michael caught my look, and strode to me quickly, grabbing my hand. I tore it from his grasp, running to the remains of the poor creature, and sinking to my knees before its lifeless form. I felt his body heat beside me as he sunk to the floor beside me, his knee touching mine._

_“You killed it….”_

_“You heard mother. I can’t keep him.”_

_I turned to him. This was the moment where I began to fear that I could never truly reach him. Like maybe there was no one to reach. The inside of his mortal shell laid barren, while he simply reflected back other’s words and expressions, not knowing how to feel them for himself._

_He saw my alarm and wrapped his arms around me, his nose nuzzling into my neck, his tears soaking my hair._

_“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”_

_Dorian’s voice brought me back to the present._

_“You should run, far away. Somewhere he would never think to look.”_

_“I can’t just leave him.”_

_“He left you.”_

_My eyes filled and burned._

_“I wasn’t even aware you were speaking to him again after what he did at Hawthorne. I assumed he left because he finally realized you weren’t going to give in to him this time.”_

_His soft hand gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him._

_“Why did you give in? Why did you forgive him?”_

_“Because I love him. I know you don’t understand why. I can’t explain it to you. I can’t even explain it to myself.”_

_“Listen to me, Y/N. A life where you’re terrified of the man you supposedly love, a life without stability- that is not a life. No amount of passion is worth that. And, frankly, it’s so far beneath what you deserve that it makes me want to weep.”_

_Michael had changed the topography of my body and my soul, and then he abandoned what he created. But the changes were already there, set in stone. I would never not be branded as his._

_“I’m not afraid of him, Dorian.”_

_He looked at me sadly, letting his hand drop from my face, and rubbing his jaw, before gazing back over the lake. He sighed as he put his arm around me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder as the breeze gently lifted our hair._

_“I know that, my dear Y/N.”_

_……………_

I walked away from the house, wanting to be alone, but not too far from those I loved. I put my arms around my chest, closing my eyes and breathing in the night air. My senses perked up, on high alert for a reason I couldn’t ascertain. Goosebumps littered my body.

My eyes shot open at the alarming feeling. I could see nothing. Just dark, empty streets. I tried to calm myself. ‘If someone thinks they can harm me, just let them try. I’m the hunter here. I control what happens to me.’ 

I heard a faint sound from the shadows behind me. 

“Hello, miss.”

I turned with a start and was taken aback by the sight of a tall man wearing all black. His shoes softly clicked on the street as he sauntered slowly towards me. I couldn’t explain myself when I started to walk towards him. We met halfway, before stopping and looking one another up and down. 

“Are you lost?”

“No. I am just heading back home.”

My mouth felt heavy and my voice sounded foreign to me. Confusion wove itself into my brain. An undercurrent of fear tried to bubble up to the surface, but was being forcibly pushed down. I was awake, wasn’t I? When I looked around, I didn’t recognize anything. Gone were the cobblestones, and any sign of the streets I was just starting to learn. 

I clutched my hands together, my eyes returning to the handsome man.

“Maybe I am lost…” 

“Being lost at night is dreadful, particularly when you’re alone. Is it not?”

I nodded; my feet stuck to the spot. There was a hint of an accent, but not one I had ever heard. The cadence and lilt was so soothing, I felt myself start to drift off where I stood. 

Suddenly, he took the last step forward, our shoes touching. This close I could see his eyes, dark as obsidian. I felt if I stared into them long enough, I could see the days to come and the days gone by, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. He gave off the impression of something ancient. No, older. Older than time. Something tender as well. 

His hand curled around the side of my neck gently, as he swiped his thumb quickly across my lips. My eyes widened. His voice was barely a whisper now.

“It’s especially dreadful when you’re lost at night, and you _think_ you’re alone….but you’re not.”

“Who are you?” I whispered.

“You know me. Very well. You long for something…..unearthly, do you not?”

My eyes shifted between his. He glanced down at my lips and leaned forward, kissing me softly. My eyes fell shut on their own accord, and all the sound went out of the universe. 

“Do you still believe you’re the hunter, miss?”

When I opened my eyes at his words, I couldn’t remember how long it had been, or what exactly happened. All I knew was the strange man had gone, and I was back on that familiar street once more. My whole body started to shake as I ran back to Cordelia’s home, throwing open the door and running inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was researching what methods of birth control they had in the 1800s. I was going to try to include them, but I just…don’t think it fits with the story. Plus, the methods they used were so complicated, and would take so much time, and that is not cute haha. I know it’s unrealistic, and people would be getting pregnant so fast, but smut is supposed to be a bit unrealistic, right? So, I chose not to add that part, and instead, added some slight realism- the fact that many girl's do not have an orgasm during their first time. I hope you guys don’t mind!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Michael talk about what happened with Mallory. Upon returning home, Michael asks you to make an important decision.
> 
> Warnings: Basically none. Almost smut, but not really.

**“And the soon-to-be lovers  
smile on each other, not yet knowing farewell,  
and round about them, like a constellation,  
their destiny casts  
its nightly spell.  
Still to come, it does not reach out to them,  
it remains  
a phantom  
floating in its heavenly course.” **

I bolted into Cordelia’s home, slamming the door shut behind me, and locking it tight. My heart was threatening to tear out of my chest, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I felt as if any moment, that mysterious man would snap the door from the hinges- returning to finish what he started with me. I shuddered, walking backwards towards the stairs; keeping my eyes on the door, just in case. My back hit into a hard form, and my hand went to my mouth, a scream on the precipice. Cordelia grabbed me- our startled expressions mirroring one another.

“Are you alright? What’s happened?”

I didn’t know how to broach the topic with her, feeling that she might believe I was hallucinating, or had an overactive imagination. She might even think me mad, and the implication of that was enough to stop me from telling her. I had seen woman put into asylums for way less. The whole encounter felt so dream-like, that I was now beginning to doubt what I had just experienced. I needed to think. I needed to be alone.

“It’s nothing…I heard an animal, I believe. It startled me. I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes narrowed and focused in on mine.

“I think I need to get some rest. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t been sleeping well as it is…”

“Certainly.…Well, Michael put Mallory in your room. She’s asleep. I made up my Uncle’s bed for him to use…..”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I breathed deeply, feeling as if I might faint. I could feel my brain weakening with distress and fatigue. Cordelia noticed, grabbing my arm, and holding me steady.

“Do you…want to talk about anything, y/n?”

“No. No, thank you, Cordelia. If you don’t mind—”

“Yes, of course. Goodnight, dear.”

She let me go as I began to climb the staircase. I could feel her eyes on me as I went. Passing by the room Michael was currently in, I had a fleeting urge to knock; to ask if I could sleep in his bed, as I had always done when nightmares plagued me. But this was no nightmare. I decided against it. He had scared Mallory today, for what seemed like the pure joy of it. He was not coming with us, after everything I had done to protect him and his name. No, I couldn’t see him right now. 

I opened the door quietly, shutting it even more discretely. Approaching Mallory in her bed, I tugged her blankets up under her chin so she wouldn’t get cold in the night. Putting my hand against her forehead, I tried to discern a fever. She felt cool. It was a relief. A rush of tenderness blossomed from my heart towards the girl. She was like my sister. I would do anything to protect her. ‘Anything?’ I heard a strange voice whisper in my head. Stirring slightly, she turned over on her side, facing the wall. 

In the darkness, I changed into my nightdress before settling into bed. Laying in the silence, and gazing up at the ceiling, was not doing me well. I let my imagination run wild as the hours flew, and sleep refused to come. I was dreadfully tired, but I was also scared and disoriented. Just as the Sun started to grace the horizon, the rain began to pound the roof outside. Did the Sun ever rise without the rain also being involved? 

A shuffle by the door caught my attention. Michael stepped into my line of vision; his body outlined by the light of the Moon. How long had he been standing in the shadows? His eyes were bright for how late the hour. I started to tremble as he approached, on the edge of tears for a reason I couldn’t ascertain. I was in equal measure irritated by how happy I was to see him when he didn’t deserve that from me. He crouched by the side of the bed, his hand coming to rest softly on my cheek. When his greeting received no reply, he tried again.

“I can’t sleep. The rain is determined to keep me up with thoughts of you, I suppose.”

I turned away, wiping my tears, and closing my eyes against him. 

“I need to sleep so I’m rested for the journey home, Michael.”

My feelings waged war within me. Love, suspicion, paranoia- a debt to be paid. I could clearly feel his frustration as he kept kneeling, pondering what to say to erase the hurt he had caused. I abruptly felt his fingers brushing through my hair in an intricate manner, trying to soothe the best way he knew how. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?”

“Many times, Michael,” I sighed.

His hand drifted further, coming to rest on my lower back, rubbing circles.

“Did I tell you that when I was away from you, I dreamt about you every night? I would wake feeling that I had spent actual time with you. I could feel your hands touching me. It all felt so real. I woke with the sensation of your skin under my fingernails…I could smell you…..Those few seconds upon waking….well, they were the only moments in my day that I ever felt anything at all.”

I felt myself soften towards him. Like always.

“I would try to send my love across the distance to you, to where you laid in your bed. I hoped that you’d feel it, even though we were so far apart…..that you would never doubt what my love meant.”

“Your love means being left behind. Your love is an absent person- a cold space in a bed. It hurts too much to love you.”

I shook my head, biting my lip. I willed myself to continue, railing against my instinct to turn and see his reaction to my words. 

“I know I am naïve when it comes to matters of the heart, but I’m certain it isn’t supposed to feel this way.” 

“No, y/n. You’re wrong. Love _is_ suffering. _Without it_ \- without sacrifice- there _is_ no love.” 

He pulled on my shoulder.

“Please turn around.”

I hesitantly obeyed.

“I _know_ you have suffered. Please don’t ever think I’m not grateful. I know you’re the _only_ one who would ever sacrifice yourself for me. I love you for that.”

He looked me and up and down, before running his hand up my side. When I squirmed under his hand, the pads of his fingers tickling me, I found my lips turning up unwillingly. He noticed, smiling, and easing the tension between us. He searched under the blankets until he found my hand. His smile dropped then. 

“I’m sorry. About Mallory. I shouldn’t have scared her. I thought since you loved her so much, she would naturally be a little dark. Like you. Like me.”

I swallowed harshly. It always seemed like he had something against her, before he even met her. More likely he was sorry that I was upset, more than for Mallory’s sake. I felt him tug on my hand, bringing my attention back to him as he stood.

“Stand up, y/n.”

Confused, I shakily pushed myself from the bed, standing before him. With a quick flick of his nimble fingers, my clothing was gone, and I was completely naked. I glanced over at Mallory, alarmed at what she would think if she were to wake up right now. 

He kneeled again, picking up my clothing, and placing them delicately on the table. He undid the pins from my hair, letting the locks fall before staring at me, lit up in the light of the Moon. Then his arms were around me, kissing me desperately, and pulling me back into the warm bed. 

He took his place between my legs, grinding his clothed body into mine, and whimpering into my mouth. The next thing I felt were his fingers touching between my thighs. I gasped, turning my gaze once again to Mallory, looking for any sign of movement. He pulled my face back to his, his mouth latching onto mine before pressing his tongue deeply inside. 

We hadn’t been together in this way for two years. I feared that any sexual act between us would always be tainted with the memory of that first time, specifically, the next morning after that first time. When I woke up to see he had gone without a word. And worse still, I was conflicted about the night in general.

I had always believed we had shared something so intimate- something that we shared with no one else. We had said so much to each other- not with words, but with our bodies. With our eyes. That night, I was absolutely certain he loved me, and I used the memory of it as a constant reminder about my motives for the acts I committed in his name. 

After he left, there were moments where that certainty completely disappeared. Where I wondered if he had lied, and Evaline had actually been his first, like I had originally suspected. It had even crossed my mind that he may have used intimacy to keep me close, knowing he was preparing to leave that next morning, and would be wounding me in the process. My suspicions were not quelled when I thought on the fact that he intended to send me and Mallory home tomorrow without him.

As he continued with his fingers and his mouth, I felt the panic build within me, though I also felt pleasure build with as much, if not more, intensity. The panic seemed to win me over as I bit down on his tongue. He cried out, pulling back in shock, and wiping the blood from his face. He examined it before he looked down at me, breathing hard. 

“I’m so sorry. I can’t explain why I did that. Are you alright?”

Almost too sweetly, he smiled, and replied, “Yes, I’m fine.”

He cleared his throat, moving from between my legs, and falling to my side. He almost fell off the bed, but I caught his forearm before he could, preventing the near accident. He smiled, grabbing my hand, and pressing a kiss to it. 

“I promise I will only be gone for two weeks at the most. What is two weeks when we have our whole lives to be together?”

My eyes watered, as I moved to face the wall again. He grabbed my body, trying to keep me from turning from him.

“I just want to be alone with my thoughts for a moment.”

“You want me to leave?” he said sadly. 

“No. I want you to stay. I want to be alone _with you._ But…can we just sit in silence for a while? Please?”

He sighed, and I felt his breath hit the nape of my neck with his exhale. The bed shifted as he moved down, and my body tensed. He kissed up each notch of my spine, before wrapping his arms around me, chaining my back against his chest.

“Go to sleep, my love. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Our breathing began to slow. I was comfortable for the first time in a long time. I opened my eyes slightly. 

“There was a man earlier tonight. While I was walking…..he cornered me…asked me if I was lost. He felt threatening….”

I felt him shuffle behind me.

“What did he look like?”

“It’s hard to explain, actually. I don’t think I could do him justice by even trying.”

“He acted like he wanted to hurt you?”

“Not exactly…..”

_The kiss. So sensitive, and so predatory._

“This is exactly the reason why you need to stop going out alone. If anything happened to you…..”

“I’m fine, Michael. In fact, I’m probably overreacting. He was probably just a concerned townsman, wondering why a woman was out walking alone.”

He relaxed, nuzzling his nose into the spot under my ear.

“No one is going to hurt you. _Especially_ not anyone from town,” his kiss against my skin finished his sentence, as the lingering memory of the other man’s kiss, (the hunter’s,) flashed across my mind.

“How can you be so sure about that?"

“Because everyone around here knows that I’ll hurt them first.”  
…………

When I woke up, I felt a presence next to me. Turning, I expected to see Michael, still sound asleep. Instead, I saw Mallory curled around my side. She was awake, her tawny eyes resting on mine. I was reassured to see that the fear from the night previous seemed to have gone. 

I rolled completely over, taking her hand in mine. 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded hesitantly. 

“I still feel a bit sick…”

“Then I will go make you some tea, right away.”

Her strong grip stopped me.

“I…..I want to tell you what I saw in the woods yesterday….”

I waited with bated breath, curious as to her experience. Her hold on my hand loosened. 

“You’ll probably think I’ve gone crazy.”

I squeezed her hand in what I hoped was a comforting manner.

“I would _never_ think that.” 

She seemed to turn paler as she thought on how to begin. 

“I saw Dorian in the woods.”

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, refusing to make eye contact.

“He was hurt…I think. His face seemed misshapen. He didn’t look like himself at all. And his limbs….they didn’t seem like his own. They were the wrong coloring for him. And the wrong length- all twisted, and mashed. It was like…..some kind of monster.” 

She was crying now, the panic coming through her eyes and voice as she re-lived the event.

“And there was another man there too. He didn’t seem to be hurt. He was handsome, and well-dressed in all black. He was standing next to him, smiling at me. Something was wrong with him….not outside, but inside. It was terrible. Almost more terrible than the monster.” 

My heart sped up at the mention of the man. Could it be that she saw the mysterious stranger too? I didn’t know how to feel about the rest of what she saw, though something in me told me not to discount it right away. I also knew she wasn’t one to make up tall tales. 

“I believe you, Mallory. That man you saw, the one dressed in black?….I think I ran into him last night.”

“You did?” 

I nodded.

“After you were brought back inside, I went for a walk. He asked me if I was lost…..”

_And he kissed me._

As I talked, my eyes drifted over to where she slept the night before. There was a teacup on the table next to her bed. She must have already had breakfast. I was hoping that I would wake up before her so I could keep an eye on things. I did not want any more unfortunate things to happen between Mallory and Michael. 

“You’ve already been downstairs? Is anyone else awake?”

She let go of my hand, wringing her own, before staring off again, going mute. 

“Is there something on your mind, Mallory?”

She faintly laughed. “No, nevermind. I’m being silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I……do you recall the pin that Dorian used to wear? I can’t be certain but when I went downstairs to make tea, I saw Michael. He was going through his clothing- the items he had been wearing that day. He pulled something out of the pocket….I swear I saw him pull out Dorian’s clasp. You know the clasp…the red one.”

I remembered Dorian at the lake, telling me how he thought Michael might hurt him, and how important that red clasp was to him. He treasured it because I gave it to him. Dread swept over me, and Mallory immediately picked up on it, as she always did.

“Oh, don’t fret too much, y/n. Like I said, I can’t be sure….It’s probably not the clasp. Why would he have it? Dorian always seemed to guard that thing with his life. It seems strange that he’d just part with it….”

“Did you ask Michael about it?”

“No….I was afraid. When he noticed I was in the room, he tried to hide it. Then, he made my tea for me. He insisted on it, saying that he wanted to prove how sorry he was. Then he left.”

“He left?”

“Yes. I do not know where to. That was about an hour ago.”

“How….strange…I will have to ask him about it.”

I would when I saw him, though I doubted he would tell me the truth. Her face was still creased with concern as she watched me try, and fail, to conceal my suspicion. 

“Try not to worry too much, Mallory. This place is very strange, but we are going home today, and we will never have to think on these things ever again.”

She closed her eyes, smiling gratefully. 

“I’m so relieved.” 

I kissed her forehead, as she put her arms around my waist. 

“Me too. I never want to see the rain again.”

……………….

Michael came in just as we finished breakfast with Cordelia. With one look from me, he knew that his presence was requested. Privately. 

I led the way upstairs. He followed closely behind me, his head down; accidentally stepping on my heels the whole way. His eyes were wide with concern as I shut the door behind him. 

“What did I do?”

“Why do you have Dorian’s clasp?”

He frowned. “What clasp?”

“The one we gave him.”

“y/n, I do not know what you’re talking about—”

“Stop lying. For once, just tell me the truth. Where is Dorian?”

“That FUCKING girl---"

I made to interrupt his diatribe about Mallory before it even began. His eyes flashed with intense rage for one moment, before it dissipated completely. He sighed, reaching into his pocket.

“I was going to wait until I came home to give this to you, but…”

He placed a tiny box into my hands- flowers engraved into the wood. I opened it, my eyes falling to a purple clasp lying on a pillow of velvet. 

The clasp was undeniably lovely. It would go with many of my cloaks. This clasp wasn’t red…It wasn’t even maroon. I ran my finger over the plum-covered piece, unsure how to feel. 

“I am shocked that the jeweler was open this early in the morning.”

“He wasn’t. I bought it a few days ago….”

_Where did he go today?_

“Hmmm….”

“I know red is your favorite color…I looked for it…”

“No, no. It’s so beautiful. It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

I kissed his cheek, and the side of his mouth. He kissed my lips back.

“I love you, y/n.”

………………….

All our items were packed, and the carriage to take us home was on its way. I brought down the cloak that Cordelia had loaned me after mine was burnt. I placed it into her waiting hands. She gazed at me, then back at the fabric, before draping it over me, and tying it tightly. 

“Keep it,” she muttered, rubbing her hands on my shoulders in a loving manner.

“You’ll need it to keep warm. And to serve as a reminder that you have a friend here.”

I was touched by her unexpected warmness, and to my unexpected reaction to it.

“Thank you, Cordelia. I’m so…grateful for everything you’ve done.” 

_And for every secret you’ve kept for me._

Her perceptive eyes never left mine.

“Remember, I’ll be expecting a letter from you, letting me know that you made it safely to your destination. Please don’t make me worry. We aren’t like the men. Us women take care of one another.”

……………..

Michael had his lips on my forehead. After loading the carriage with my items, he had barely let me leave his side. Pressed against his chest, I listened to his erratically beating heart. I faintly heard Cordelia’s neighbor whispering about another man that had gone missing just that morning. I turned my head, pulling slightly from Michael- my interest sparked. He grabbed onto my clothing, roughly pulling me back to him, before tilting my head back, and kissing me deeply. 

Mallory came up, holding her trunk. I saw irritation in his eyes at the interruption, as he pulled back, wiping his tears, and shooting her fiery glances. 

He stepped closer to her, towered over her small frame, and staring into her eyes in the not-so-friendly manner that he had always excelled at. 

“I’ll take that for you.” 

He ripped the trunk from Mallory’s hands, walking it to the carriage and placing it in the back. Her gaze turned to me as I put my arm around her.

“I’m sorry, Mallory. Michael doesn’t seem to understand how to make friends or talk to people courteously.” 

He leaned back against the carriage. Silently, he held out his arms to me. I walked into them with no hesitation as he pressed kiss after kiss against my hair.

As we said our goodbyes, Michael took a break from shooting eye daggers at Mallory, suddenly exclaiming he was feeling ill, and needed to rest. Before going upstairs, his lips were at my ear, begging for me to trust him. Asking me to believe that he would make good on his promise to return in two weeks’ time. What else could I do? As I watched him walk inside, my heart rioted painfully.

……………..

As I listened to Mallory promise Cordelia to write as much as possible, I recalled the purple clasp. I thought about pinning it to my cloak, then didn’t; choosing to leave it in its beautiful box instead. 

As the carriage pulled out, I felt relief and trepidation. The house that had once seemed so threatening to me did not feel as bad now that we had experienced this dreary place. I was glad to leave here. I felt a sort of giddiness to be going home. That hopeful feeling lasted right up until we saw the lake. As we got into the boat that would row us back to the isolation of the house, I felt myself deflate. 

I had traveled somewhere foreign. I had once again done so many bad things, only to come back here in the same situation. Nothing had really changed, had it? Michael was still gone, and when ( _if_ ) he came back, what would be different? I didn’t know, and I feared that it would always remain exactly this way.

………………

Once home, Mallory and John had a tearful reunion. I was surprised how much I missed the little boy. I kissed his head, ruffling his hair. We had been gone such a short time, and John had seemed to grow substantially in that period, shocking me.

Mallory was taken aback as well, but for different reasons. He had begun to endlessly complain about his boredom- something he had never done in her company. 

“There’s nothing to do here,” he whined. “I can’t wait till I get to leave. I will row across the lake, and never come back.” 

I looked to Mallory and saw pain. I had always warned her that one day John would do exactly that. Boys could leave whenever they wanted- and they did. They could do whatever they wanted with their lives, and they were rarely judged for it. Women were always the ones left behind, propping their men up, and existing simply to help them reach their dreams. 

“Don’t say that, John…”

He noticed her trembling, and his eyes filled quickly. He always was a sensitive little boy. He sat down quickly in her lap, nuzzling his cheek against hers as Mallory held on tightly.

“I will come back to see you every week! I promise. We will always be friends!”

She rocked him back and forth like a baby, nodding her head.

………………….

It had been raining non-stop almost every day since we left Michael, and as the two-week mark approached, I became restless. My constant bad dreams put me on edge- concerning me that they weren’t dreams at all, but omens.

Mallory and John watched me walk from room to room, looking on as I tried to shake off my feelings of unease. They continued to build. The air felt oppressive and heavy. Mallory continuously asked me why I wasn’t happy when I did what I had set out to do. Michael was coming home, so what was wrong? I told her I was still tired- more exhausted than I thought I’d be after the trip. John wouldn’t stop prattling on about his dislike for Michael, and how he hoped he would never come back. Mallory hushed him every time, but he kept it up in an irritating fashion, always starting in the most when I had a headache.

It was only us three in the home, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone else, lurking in the shadows. I shuddered at the thought. Was it the ghost of Mrs. Langdon, still haunting us, and making sure I was watching over her son like I had promised her? Was it the ghost Mallory had seen in the woods? Or maybe it was the man…maybe he followed us here and was waiting for an opportune time to strike. 

I blocked the thoughts from my psyche, and then came to a revelation. It wasn’t a lurker in the shadows that was putting me off, but the house itself. It never did seem quite right. The table was too big for the room and sat more people than would ever be inside its walls. The artwork was faked- done by artist’s who were cheaper than the originals. The carpets and curtains were musty. The fireplaces were too large for the scale of each room or boarded up all together. The house was cannibalistic- decaying from the inside. It tried desperately to hide that truth. What was it doing to the people inside its wall? To the people I love? 

I ran outside, hoping the fresh air would clear my mind, and quiet my racing thoughts. Trekking further into the woods, I wondered what it would be like to be an animal- could I survive out here? It was always a fantasy of mine, one I would return to when things got hard at my caretaker’s house, and when things got too intense at the Langdon’s. Now that I was older, I realized I would probably die if I had to survive out here on my own. Nature, the place I loved the best, would not protect me if I were forced into its clutches, and that made me sad for a reason I couldn’t name.

I pressed my back into the trunk of a tree, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath. Maybe my beloved nature wouldn’t save me or protect me, but at least I could be my full self out here. I could drop the false smile and let my face rest for once. I could drop every pretense. I let my body go limp, finally relaxing until a voice pulled me out of my meditation. 

“I live to watch you. Being in love with you is simply in my nature now. I could never stop. _Never.”_

I opened my eyes. I was shocked to see Michael before me in the woods. He stood with his hands behind his back, his clothes immaculate. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and I hoped against everything they were for me, and not the result of a conscious that was guilty over something I had not yet discovered. 

“Michael…”

“Are you happy that I’m back?”

I pressed off from the tree, walking to him, and wrapping him in my embrace. 

“I can barely believe it.”

“I told you I was going to come back,” he sighed, pulling me more into his chest, and sinking his head upon my shoulder. “Did you think I was lying, angel?”

“You can never be sure. You may have found a new love over there. I would never know.”

He pressed his lips to my neck before raising his head, and taking me in. His lips slightly trembled as he spoke.

“You can be sure with me. _Always._ I have never loved anyone, and never _shall_ love anyone, unless that person is you.”

I smiled as I pressed my lips to his. 

“I have something for you.” 

Out of his pocket, he pulled a vintage box. He looked nervous, which set me on edge.

“What is that?”

“ _That_ is one of the reasons I went to that dreadful town in the first place. I found your birth parents, y/n.”

I couldn’t speak. 

“What do you remember of them?”

I cleared my throat.

“My parents? Barely anything. My caretaker said my Mother was a prostitute. She said she sold me to her to pay off a debt….but then again, she later told me she was murdered. The story was always changing. I do not know which, if any, are reality.”

Tears had started falling. When had they started? I wiped them away, desperate to change the subject.

“I know nothing about my Father. I didn’t even know they lived in….that place.”

Of course fate would have it that my birth parents would sell me, and then move somewhere that was so ominous. A place that continued to haunt my nightmares.

“y/n, look at me.”

I did. His eyes were intense. 

“Your Mother loved you. The things that vile woman told you about her were false. She was a good person. Her only crime was falling ill too young, and having the town drunk for a husband. Your Father was the one who sold you to that woman. Your Mother never believed the man she loved would ever do something like that.”

Michael opened the box. It was a beautiful ring with a gold band, and smoky green, diamond-shaped jewel placed directly in its center. 

“Your Mother put her wedding ring up for you once she got sick.”

“This is my Mother’s ring?”

He nodded. “She thought your Father would pass it down to you once you were old enough.”

“Michael, I can’t believe you did this. Why would you do this for me?” 

He lifted the ring from the box, and grabbed my hand, delicately sliding it over the ring finger, before placing a kiss there.

“You haunt me…. I used to think that this world wasn’t for me, that I was separate from everyone on Earth. But now, I’ve found myself wanting what everyone wants.”

He squeezed my hand tightly, crunching my fingers together. 

“Will you?”

His question lingered until his meaning was made clear. He wanted to get married, just like everyone else. When he noticed my face, and how unsure I was, he tensed. He clearly only expected happiness. 

“Do you not want to be with me?” 

My mouth hung open, as I formulated my words.

“I can sense your feelings about me. You’re loneliness. I know that you love me.”

“I do, Michael.”

“Then what is it?”

“I fear what it will mean if I say yes. I don’t want to just be someone’s wife. I want to travel, to learn--“

“What has knowledge ever done for you besides made you discontent with your life? Men do not care. They are still assholes who don’t respect you; who believe themselves smarter than you. What has it done but made you worry, and long for more?”

His tone was becoming increasingly irritated. The ring caught the rays of the sun, shining brightly as guilt blossomed in my chest.

“Maybe you want a man like Dorian. Is that it?”

“I want to marry someone who loves me because I enhance their life. Who wants to learn with me. Who can grant me freedom. Someone who considers me an equal. When Dorian said he loved me because I was beautiful….. that’s when I knew I could never be with him.”

Michael cocked his head to the side.

“When did he say this?”

“At Hawthorne, during the dance?”

He smirked devilishly just as I realized my mistake.

“So you were spying on us?” He laughed, shaking his head. “He never knew you, you know. Not the real you. He would _never_ believe that his precious flower would go so far as to spy and sneak about…..he never would believe you capable of burning down a house…and for me, nonetheless.”

My breath caught as he strode up to me, wrapping his hand around my neck.

“How did you find out about the house?”

“There’s _nothing_ you can hide from me, darling. The things you did to conceal yourself from our stupid friend…..those things could _never_ conceal you from me.”

“I love you so much. And I love that you went through all the trouble to get me this ring…If I could just have some time to think it over--”

“You’re the _only_ thing I love- the only thing I care about.”

“That’s just it, Michael. I don’t want to be the _only_ thing you care about. I want you to love other things, other people. I want to enhance your life, not be your whole life.”

He shook his head, his eyes darkening as he looked down at me.

“y/n. Marry me. Marry me and I’ll give you a home that will be entirely yours, not my family’s. I’ll show you a life of beauty, and respect. Everything I have, you will be equally entitled to. Whatever it is you could ever want; I would give it to you. I’m yours. I’m fully devoted to you for a lifetime. I’ll protect you. Forever. I will love every part of you. Even the dark parts and the shadows. Especially those. Could you love my shadow too?”

I thought about myself honestly. I was not a delicate rose. I would never be untarnished. At least if I said yes to Michael, I would be with someone who actually loved me. How many women could say the same? I was afraid for many reasons. He was a liar. He scared me often, and his affections could be overwhelming, to say the least. I could imagine his hold on my life increasing as we aged. Could I even trust him not to randomly abandon me again? I didn’t know. If we were married, security would no longer be an issue if he disappeared. I just knew my heart couldn’t take it. He may have been going to that strange town to get this ring for me, but I was certain there were other reasons for his being there- bigger ones. He was still keeping silent about something. He was still lying by omission. 

I yearned for freedom, yet I loved a man whose grip on the things he cared about could be suffocating. It was difficult for me to deny Michael anything. It had always been this way. It was with a slightly guilty heart and mindset, and one look at his afraid, yet childishly hopeful eyes, that I said yes. 

Once his kisses and praises slowed down, I could finally get a word in.

“Is my Father well?” 

I wiped the tears from his eyes, as he pressed his forehead to mine. 

“He…. yes, he’s fine.” 

“Did he give you any trouble about the ring?”

“Once I told him that I was planning on asking you to marry me, he didn’t have the heart to stop me from taking it.”

He smiled wide, kissing my nose.

………..

After Michael reunited with Mallory and John- both of which were cold, and awkward at best, we had a celebratory dinner where I shared the exciting news of our marriage. Things then moved to the library, where we all sat around the fire. 

At one point, John challenged his older Brother to a fight, telling Michael he was weak, and would probably lose. I unsuccessfully hid my smile behind my hand, and Michael smirked, seeming to find the whole situation humorous, and a little charming, though he would never admit it. 

We continued to all sit together while Mallory read John fairy tale after fairy tale- about love, and tragedy, and death. Michael played with my hair as he leaned against a bookcase; my back pressed to him. 

Once Mallory took John to his room for the night, me and Michael stayed put- basking in eachother’s company. It has been so long since we had been together in this house. We were both silent for a long time. Every so often, I noticed Michael peeking around my head, taking glances at my face, and wondering at the quiet. When each time he didn’t find me asleep like he expected, only quiet and in deep thought, he finally took action. 

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s…..it’s nothing.”

“Thinking on fairy tales, are you?”

I sat up, looking at him. 

“It’s just…this is not how you are taught that love stories go. None of them are like ours.”

He reacted as if I had wounded him. I touched my throat, despairing at the sad look on his face, before I pushed my hand into his.

“I don’t mean it that way. I’m just saying ours is different…”

He thought for a moment, before pulling me to straddle his lap, as my hands came to his shoulders. 

“It is different. Ours is better. We have the best love story of all. Because it’s ugly, and uncomfortable, and I would do anything for it. I see life in _nothing_ but the certainty of our love.”

His eyes shone bright. His golden hair, rosy lips and marble skin looked beautiful by the light of the fire. My body was wracked with nerves as I thought on the never-ending ache of my love for him, and just how far I would go to protect him. Relief flooded his features as he read on my face all the things I couldn’t say out loud. 

Thunder rumbled in the night sky.

……………………..

I opened the letter I received back from Cordelia. She was happy to hear we had made it home safely. It read as normal until the very end. Words were started and ended suddenly, leaving me to try to decipher the meaning myself. One part was abundantly clear:

“I keep having a repeating dream about you. You are strapped to a table, and though I try to get you to move, you refuse. Your eyes roll wildly in your skull, and you make this terrible, unearthly sound…I will never forget it. 

Suddenly, I hear ripping and tearing behind me. Then a dreadful grating and slopping. I feel breath on the back of neck before I wake, always in a cold sweat. I have had nightmares before, of course. I cannot say why this one seems to be---”

The rest of the line is scratched out but continues below the scribble. 

“Things seem ominous to me. I cannot figure out why. I feel as if I am being surrounded more and more by a heavy, dark cloud. It goes where I go, and I cannot for the life of me figure out how to banish it.

_Is it light where you are yet?”_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding descends upon them. Truths are brought to the surface.
> 
> Warnings: Smut, murder, angst

****

**“losing too is still ours; and even forgetting  
still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation.  
When something's let go of, it circles; and though we are  
rarely the center  
of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous  
curve”**

The wedding ceremony would be starting soon, and Michael had me on a wild goose chase, pursuing him through the labyrinth of the house.

“Michael, _please_ slow down.”

My ivory gown did a pirouette as I turned the corner and observed him slowly walk into his parents’ bedroom. 

Before he disappeared from view, his eyes met mine with a mysterious glint; urging me to follow. 

I obeyed, as I always did, and stood in the entryway to the pitch-black room.

“Where are you?” I whispered. 

When I got no reply, I stood stock-still, straining to listen, and stuck to the spot with unease. 

I struck a match, lighting the candle in my hand, and offering it to the darkness.

I am startled when I see him in the center of the room- standing quietly, with his hands laced behind his back. 

“Are you alright?”

“Come closer, angel,” he breathed out. 

I walked to him, trembling the entire way.  
As I step before him, his full lips fall open, like dripping honey, slowly, slowly, until they are spread obscenely. 

It is unnatural. 

I gasp as his jaw unhinges- dislocating violently and shifting around like the jaw of a serpent. 

He presses his cold body against mine, and my eyes fall to his tongue, which slithers out from the hole that used to be his mouth.

I hear hissing. I hear laughter.

“Come with me, y/n. Come down into the dark.”

The strong smell of cinnamon wakes me with a start, and my hand instantly searches besides me for Michael. 

He’s still asleep, but there is someone standing over him. The large shape looms, its mouth attached to his, as if it’s taking something crucial from the inside. 

I scream- jumping from bed- and he startles, getting quickly to his knees. 

His eyes are wide with alarm as he moves closer; reaching for my hand.

“What’s happened? Are you alright?”

My mouth hangs open, my lips shaking, as I fight to explain the sense of dread and terror that is hanging over my head. 

“Was it a bad dream, my angel?”

He’s wide awake now, and I cannot help but notice how sick he looks. 

_Drained._

I moved onto the bed, taking his cheeks into my hand- pressing my face into his neck- breathing in the scent I knew so well. 

“Yes. It was just a bad dream. Just a dream,” I stutter out; hoping to soothe him and myself.

As he drifted off, I kept a vigilant eye on him- the blankets tangled at his waist- his bare skin glowing in the moonlight.

I ran my fingertips from the small of his back, up the notches of his spine; watching as his muscles flexed under my touch.

I thought on all that would happen tomorrow, and though I was excited to be bound to the one I love, I was undoubtedly filled with something I cannot describe. 

It put me on edge as I thought on my gown- dyed such a dark purple shade, that it almost appears black. 

Cordelia had arrived weeks ago with the dress- asking questions and flittering about with excitement and energy. 

“Where are you off to for your honeymoon? I’m assuming you’ll be taking Mallory with you?”

Michael tensed beside me with each question she put forth. 

“We have chosen to wait for a while to take the honeymoon,” I quickly replied. 

“The honeymoon is the best part! But I guess that saves me from having to buy rice, and root around for old pairs of shoes.”

“We aren’t much for tradition,” Michael murmured, distastefully. 

“And yet, you’re getting married,” she joked.

“We just want to be home. Since all of this was so sudden,” you explained.

And it really _was_ very sudden. 

It seemed hasty to get married mere weeks after the proposal, but Michael had declared that there would never be a time where he didn’t love me, and he hoped I felt the same. 

“So why wait?” he had asked me, and I had agreed.

Everyone in the household was excited for what was to come, but I felt a sense of disquiet and foreboding I could not brush off. 

It clung to me like spiderwebs.

But now, the time was here. 

Tomorrow.

I hoped for fair weather to bring us a reprieve from the fog, which seemed to have followed us from that strange town, and never really left. 

It stalked my world.  
  
  
...................................................................................................................................................................................  
  
  
The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as I sat in my bedroom- my wedding dress on- waiting for Cordelia and Mallory to arrive with the items for my hair.

While I waited, I read the only book in the room. 

The Bible. 

_“You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for_

_I, the LORD of your God, am a jealous God.”_

My skin prickles as I flip to a random page. 

_“My cup overflows.”_

A sound caused me to raise my head; my eyes meeting Michael’s as he leaned against the doorframe. 

I placed the book down, standing up, as he slowly walked my way. 

He circled, and I tried to read him, as I had always done.

“You aren’t supposed to see me before the ceremony.” 

He laughed lightly. 

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, motioning towards my dress. 

“It’s….pleasing, but the floor will be wearing it more than you.”

He stopped, and cupped my chin gently in his hand, tilting my head so that the sunlight poured over my face.

“I wonder if you know how beautiful you are.”

I flushed, and his eyes seemed to relish in the hold he had over me. 

Suddenly, his arm shot out, wrapping around my waist, and jerking my body into his. 

He slammed his mouth onto mine with a low rumbling groan that I felt travel up the length of my spine.

His lips were fused to mine, our tongues meeting demandingly. 

I fought to catch my breath once I finally broke free of his bruising hold. 

“What was that for?” 

“I _need_ you.”

“Later,” I whispered.

Since Michael had returned home, he had been fused to my side- always touching me or begging to be touched. He was determined to be inside of me as much as possible. Our 

situation was undoubtedly frowned upon, with us being together in this way before marriage. 

But I could never deny him, and I truth be told, I did not want to. 

He wasn’t the only one getting something out of the situation. I coveted his touch more and more as he mastered how to use his body. 

“I don’t need a ceremony to tell me that you’re mine,” he said.

His eyes had a playful glint as he pulled my hair aside, brushing his lips down my neck. 

“I cannot keep my hands to myself,” he whispered, his palms skimming over my breasts, squeezing lightly, before pinching the nipples over the fabric. 

With a quick sweep, they traveled down my stomach, and around my hips. 

“Michael, there’s a lot that needs to be done—”

He reared his hand back, delivering a well-placed slap to my side. 

“No,” he smirked, wrapping his arm around my ribs, and using his free hand to tilt my face back. “Right now, _this_ is where you belong,” he said, running his thumb over 

my lips. “I can’t let you go. And I do not care if we’re late today. This is what you do to me, and I need you full of me. _Right now..”_

He pushed his thumb gently past my lips, sliding it over my tongue, as my eyes fluttered.

“You will do as I say. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He immediately hiked the gown up, running his large palms over my inner thighs, and grasping the skin, before moving up to press his hand directly over my undergarments. 

I tensed, subconsciously leaning back into his warmth. 

“Since it is our wedding day, tell me all the ways in which you love me, y/n.” 

He placed his hand inside the material, gathering up my wetness, and rubbing circles over my center.

“I can’t…focus when you’re touching me.”

“Try.”

“I worship you,” I breathed out.

“Like a God?”

“Yes.” 

“And, like your beloved deity, you will still love me- will stick with me- through everything? No matter how devious?” 

He slid a finger inside of my folds, spiraling around the entrance.

“Yes,” I admitted, forlornly, “Tell me every bad thing you’ve done. Say it all. And I will love you still.”

“You are mine, and you shall be mine, forever.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips roughly into my own, and working his fingers quickly into my body. 

I ran my hand behind me, rubbing him over his pants, as he groaned into my mouth, and pressed his lips to my ear.

“I want to take you right here, before our wedding, so that when we take our first of steps as bride and groom, you will feel me dripping out of you- you’ll know that I’ve marked you- that you’re _mine.”_

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and the sounds of happy chattering filled the space. 

Michael, breathing hard, turned me around, and fixed my dress, before kissing up my face, and striding from the room without a word.  
  
  
.................................................................................................................................................  
  
  
“What has got you so tense on your wedding day?” Cordelia remarked.

“I’m not certain….” 

I tried to release the muscles in my shoulders and neck and allow myself to relax under the feel of her gentle fingers working through my hair.

I thought on Dorian and Mr. Langdon- two people whose absence seemed to linger above the event like a diabolical spirit-covering everything with a gloomy tint.

I thought on all the unanswered questions whose answers may continue to evade me.

“I feel as if Michael is hiding something…. something big,” I admitted, leaving out the biggest fear I had- that he was trying to rush the process of our marriage so I would be less likely to leave once I found out the truth of the situation. 

She looked a little concerned but smiled past it. 

“Maybe he _is_ hiding something big, but ‘big’ doesn’t necessarily mean bad, right? Michael loves you. He has told me many times that he wants nothing more than for you to be with him forever. He is determined to never be parted from you. I have never seen such devotion, y/n.”

I barely knew anything about Cordelia- especially her love life.

Would she understand if I told her?

Would she empathize if I revealed that this is how tragedy had always happened in my life- when I was doing something out of love?

When I wanted forever, I received an ending, and the universe had always seemed intent on instructing me in the lessons of suffering.

“Have you ever been in love? Married?”

“Once upon a time,” she said quietly; her eyes, distant.

“Are you nostalgic for someone?” I mused.

She was silent for a moment.

“Can I give you a piece of advice? Try to cherish each other as much as you can, even when things are bad. If I could go back in time and talk to the younger me…I would tell her to be gentle—be careful with her words. Once certain things are heard…. well, they are not able to be unheard so easily.”

I was overtly curious, but she grabbed my arm, and helped me to stand; turning me to the mirror.

My hair was arranged in coils and plaits; the strands laden with rubies and jade that threw off sparks in the sunlight. 

It was all very extravagant, and I felt a dash of shame at it, before deciding to go along with it for the sake of Cordelia, and the importance of the day in question. 

“Hold out your wrists.”

When I placed them in front of her, she dabbed a powerful liquid onto the skin, and a little behind my ears. 

“Gardenia,” she proclaimed, and with a flourish of purple silk, I was out the door.  
  
  
........................................................................................................................................................  
  
  


The house was done up in a manner I had never witnessed previously. It looked magnificent with the wisteria winding itself around the columns, and filling the air with its peppery scent, and bright blooms of color.

People littered the lawn, stretching out towards the lake. 

We stood by the front door, edgy with nerves. 

Michael looked beguiling, dressed in a suit of dark velvet- his long golden hair in a knot at the nape of his neck. 

He shifted on his feet, stealing glances at me, and averting his eyes from everyone else- put off by the attention. I was promptly overcome with a love so strong, it almost took my breath away. 

Cordelia and Mallory stared at us with a doting scrutiny, and Mallory threaded her fingers through mine, giving me an encouraging squeeze, which I returned by leaning in and kissing her cheek. 

Cordelia stepped forward and took a hand from me and Michael. 

If I had a free hand, I would have placed it somewhere on him- hoping to pacify his apprehension. 

“Someday, hopefully soon, you will have children, and if you’re lucky, you’ll remember the moments like this- where the sky was blue, and the weather was fine, and things were good. Hold on to those days, and each other, as long as you can. And though, one day you will lose one another, the love itself will become immortal, and hence, you will never die.”

I felt him tense as he snatched his hand from her hold; his eyes blazing furiously in her direction. 

I am suddenly brought back to a moment in the near past when Mallory had brought up children, and Michael had turned to me with watering eyes, and said,

“Would you love our child more than you love me?”

Cordelia seemed not to have taken notice of his chagrin and dropped my hand- looking me over a final time. 

She placed a bouquet of deep purple heliotropes in my grasp, before thrusting us to the middle of the lawn where the audience made up of familiar strangers waited to see us wed.

It rushed past in a blur of words, sights, and scents.  
I looked over the guests, my eyes roaming past the crowd, and toward the line of trees in the distance, and for a brief second, I believed I saw the man who had kissed me in that terrible town. 

But then, I heard Michael’s voice, and he was gone.

He smiled gently at me as he spoke, promising to love and honor me until we were parted by death, and I worked hard to conceal the shiver that ran up my spine. 

The ring was a gold band with etchings engraved on the inside. 

The latin phrase, _‘dulcius ex asperis,’_ stuck out. 

“Sweeter after difficulties,” Michael whispered, seemingly reading my mind, and I felt him brush his fingertips over the back of my knuckles. 

After the vows, we walked down the aisle: my arm linked in his. 

When Michael turned to look at a guest to his left, many in attendance visibly winced, as it was considered bad form to acknowledge others when you took your trip down the aisle. 

Their outrage and chatter additionally made _me_ turn and look, and Michael winked- causing the more conservative individuals in attendance to shake their heads. 

As people lounged on the lawn, enjoying the early afternoon light and eating breakfast, I watched John run around with Mallory- white frosting drying on the corners of his little mouth.

He played in a manner completely void of anxiety or fear, and I longed to go back in time, and produce that type of memory for myself.

My childhood consisted of running.

I would go to the woods to hide- desperate to escape my caretaker, and the situations she put me into it. 

I knew no one would ever come looking for me.

I wouldn’t return to her until I was practically mad with starvation, and cold. 

Some nights, it was unbearable- even my child’s brain and heart knew that the life I had been asked to endure was too much. 

No one ever cared. 

No one would come to my rescue if I ventured off into the woods to die.

_Until Michael._

He would _always_ come for me. 

I looked down at my own dessert. 

Besides the frosting, the dark fruitcake under it looked unappealing at best, but the old woman who made it had been watching me expectedly, so I grimaced- putting a piece into my mouth and smiling in her direction. 

Bad cake, offended guests, and that strange specter by the woods were determined to make me doubt this occasion, but I was even more determined not to let it make, what should be a happy day, into something dreadful.

I was done with that.

I was a Langdon now. 

It did not feel exactly as I thought it would, but it _did_ feel fated- like it was always meant to be.

Michael pulled on my hand, bidding me to follow.

We walked down the path, past the lake, and into our familiar part of the meadow- our shoulders knocking into one another with each step. 

The silence was comfortable as we sat back to back underneath the large tree- content with just being near one another; just touching.

My ring glints in the sunlight, and I turn at the same time he does.

Flowers have fallen into his hair and on his shoulders, and he notices them, but doesn’t wipe them away. 

He is the most exquisite thing I have ever seen in that moment, and the day- the loveliest. 

He grabs one from his shoulder, examining it, and biting off one end.

“What are you doing?” I exclaim.

“The nectar inside is edible. It’s very sweet. You only get a small amount, but it’s worth it.”

He gives me one from his hair, and I try it, smiling my agreement. 

I intended to keep the memory of this afternoon inside my heart for the rest of time. 

Everything felt light and airy, and full of possibilities, and hope.

But then he looked at me and told me he wanted darkness to cover us completely- for our souls to merge together- for us to disappear within one another.

I reply that we should get back to our guests.  
  
  
....................................................................................................................................  
  
  
Later, after receiving our gifts and well wishes, we entered Michael’s room, astounded by the trinkets in place on the walls.

Horseshoes, bells, and wishbones made a mess of the space.

A cross had been hung above our pillows in a wish of fertility, and a blessed marriage. 

As I took down my hair in bed, I watched his eyes narrow in the direction of the holy relic. 

With a few long strides, he leaned over me, and removed the offending item; opening a drawer, and noisily tossing it inside. 

He met my eyes then, ignoring the question inside of them, and quietly shut the drawer, before slipping into bed with me- his hands immediately twining through my hair. 

His hands roamed everywhere they could reach, his lips skimming my throat, as he whispered declarations of love and promises of a happy life- of paradise.

He pressed me insistently down onto the blankets, and I let my legs fall open. 

His lips were an inch over mine, hovering there, filling my entire body with butterflies, until I brought him down by the back of his neck- finally touching.

He struggled with the buttons of his shirt, ultimately pulling away from my mouth to remove it. 

As he careened back on top, I smoothed my fingers down his spine- lost in the feel of his smooth skin.

He whimpered, pulling away and flipping me onto my stomach. 

With a swift ripping of the laces and buttons, I felt the air hit my skin, and then his mouth and he pressed his lips between my shoulder blades. 

He turned me over, slipping the dress from my form.

His hands moved up my hips, and over my ribs, before falling to my bare breasts. I kissed him hard as he got to his knees so his other hand could further explore. 

I arched into him as he hungrily captured a nipple between his lips, releasing it, and placing both hands on me to knead, while he leaned over my body and kissed me.

He dropped his full weight between my thighs, grinding down for a brief second, as he rolled a nipple between his fingers. 

My body reacted to his teasing touch, as he slowly traced down my body with his hands and his mouth. 

He hovered over me, smirking at the dark spot of moisture he saw between my legs. He slowly removed the rest of my clothing; his eyes beaming with life as he gazed intently at my glistening entrance.

The tension grew as the time passed, until he finally leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to my inner thigh. 

He watched my dissonant breathing as did the same to the other leg. 

Finally, he could hold back no longer, and he roughly wrenched my legs apart; pressing a hard lick against my center that made me buck into his touch. 

He moaned as he worked his tongue in measured circles; revolving my entrance with his fingers, before gently pressing them inside. 

He moved down to lick a line from his pumping digit, up the length of me- lapping with long, languid strokes as I squirmed under him.

My fingers grasped his hair, pulling him closer, as I felt my walls pulse and grip around him.

He withdrew his fingers, mocking my sound of frustration, before removing the rest of his clothes, and shoving them off the bed, and out of sight. 

He stared at me warmly, moving to lick up the center of my body- between my breasts, past my sternum, and over my lips. 

He bumped his nose against mine, imploring me to shift my face so he could kiss me deeply. When my hand traveled between our bodies, and my fingers wrapped around his shaft, he pressed his forehead onto mine; his eyes falling shut as I caressed him. 

He dropped his weight further against me; his hips moving on their own accord. I opened my legs, pressing him against my entrance, and he moaned; his gentle grip on my hip turning firm.

He evaded pressing into me, choosing instead to rub his length against me- my body tensing as he consistently moved over the perfect spot. 

He continued with his rocking motion, nipping at any skin he could reach, as both of our bodies flushed.

Panting loudly, he increased the speed of his movements. I knew if I didn’t stop him, this night would be over when it had only just begun. 

I grabbed him, and he slowed down- his look of irritation not going unnoticed. 

I whispered his name and pressed my lips to his; biting down firmly and bringing the metallic blood back into my own mouth.

He groaned, his hips desperately trying to pick up speed again, but I reached down, placing him at my opening. 

He pulled my body tightly against his, forcing his full length into me with one rough push that made my eyes slam shut.

I moaned as he quickly slid all the way out. 

I felt his breath blow gently across my face, entreating me to open my eyes. As I did, and our gazes met, he plunged back inside.

My hips moved to meet each thrust, our lips connecting carelessly, as we trembled together.

His eyes rolled up as my body clutched him tightly, and he placed his hand under my knee- moving my leg up and back; sinking deeper into my heat. 

My whole body tensed as I settled my other leg around his waist; his hand shifting down to caress my thigh, as his hips crashed rapidly into mine.

I sunk my nails into his back, crying out, as the rapture increased until it finally broke- filling every nerve ending with pleasure. 

I shook under him- his groans turning feral as he somehow pounded even deeper- gasping loudly, before swiftly grabbing me up, and pulling my chest against his. 

His teeth pierced my lip, and I felt his final moan catch in his throat as he filled me- his bite morphing to a kiss.

Later, as I sleep peacefully in his warm embrace- I dream about a man who watches me with covetous eyes. 

When I hear my voice, it sounds foreign to me.

“is God as beautiful as you?”

“I can assure you; he is not.”  
  
  
................................................................................................................................................  
  
  
I wake to Michael’s sleeping form and am overcome by the tenderness I feel.

When he slept, all traces of stress dissipated from his countenance, leaving him looking like he was not quite apart of this world. 

Like he was mythical in nature.

He appeared sweet and meek with his lips in a soft, pink pout, and slightly swollen from the night before.

His feet were even beautiful.

I felt a rush of contentment, yet I couldn’t help but distrust it. 

I had known periods of fulfillment before- however brief they might have been- but they always left. 

The dread of abandonment lingered on the periphery, without exception; always watching, and waiting to strike.

_Cordelia._

She was to leave today, and I wanted to be up to see her off. 

I quietly exited the room, finding her awake downstairs, making tea. 

When she saw me, she came and patted my cheeks with a touch that felt maternal, and a pang of sadness shot through me- a nudge from the ether to ruminate on all I had been denied.

We sat and talked like friends, or sisters; drinking our tea, and watching the birds outside.

After a slight noise was heard from upstairs, she informed that John was awake, and playing in his nursery. 

Mallory had fallen ill in the time since the wedding- barely able to keep food or water down- and Cordelia had spent the entire night caring for her.

With a start, I rose to go and check on my friend, but she bid me to let her rest, as she had just recently fallen asleep. 

Cordelia seemed peculiarly distant this morning- her eyes shifty, and unfocused.

“Are you alright? Besides the lack of sleep, I mean.”

She jumped at my voice; smiling and shaking her head as she swabbed up the tea she spilt. 

“It’s nothing….only…since you left my home I’ve been having the most mystifying dreams. I haven’t been able to get any _real_ sleep for a month now. I thought I’d come here, and be able to rest, but, alas, they linger. The nightmares, I mean.”

My breath hitched at the word. 

“What exactly do you dream of?” 

“Terrifying things. A tall man in black standing in the corner, staring at me and laughing with these wild eyes. Last night…..last night I had one of the worst dreams of all. I dreamt that _this_ house was abandoned. There were boards on the doors, and broken windows….there was a man crying inside. I could hear him, but I couldn’t find him. I know it sounds silly, but the feeling it gave me…..it was like nothing I’ve felt before.” 

She looked as if she wanted to ask me a hesitant question, but she didn’t. 

Instead, she resumed stirring her tea, her eyes returning to the window, and keeping watch for the carriage that would take her home.

Not even ten minutes after I saw her off, promising to write as soon as possible, I got the strangest sensation- like the house was too quiet. 

Like the silence had a pulse.

I placed my teacup down and ascended the staircase; my nerves making my heart beat hard against my chest.

I walked down the hall and entered John’s room- my breath pausing completely at what I saw.

The tragedy I had dreaded clawed its way out of the garden of my soul, making itself known at last. 

On the floor lay John’s tiny body; dark marks already forming on the skin of his neck. 

Next to him stood Michael; his hands tensing and relaxing, and his eyelashes fluttering in confusion, as he whimpered out apologies. 

I made my way to the child.

As much as my heart tried to convince me that he was only sleeping, my brain knew, without a doubt, that he was dead. 

I bent down, and cradled his lifeless form to my body, though it meant nothing.

Michael watched with panic and fear- turning from me quickly as he grabbed his hair- his face contorting in agony. 

He shakily sat on the floor; his weeping verging on uncontrollable. 

I had the urge to go to him and wipe his tears- to Mother him, like I had always done. 

Instead, I stare, stuck in a stupor, as he began pulling his hair, and beating his fists against his skull.

I softly laid down John’s body, finally making my way to Michael, and blocking his blows. 

He tensed, raising his face to mine. 

His eyes.

They were not _my_ Michael’s eyes.

The pupils showed black and intense. They emanated hatred, and the desire to kill. They were animalistic, yet there was a supreme intelligence in the gaze- one that cruelly mocked. 

It took me back to the man in the alley- the same man who I thought I had seen at the wedding. 

Michael didn’t do this! He had no reason to. 

I was certain that the disturbing man had followed me here, and had killed John. 

Michael simply found the body.

Something jabbed painfully at my brain, begging me to take notice, but I ignored it, grabbing Michael’s face.

“We must call the mortician, Michael. And the police. I think the person who has killed John is in the house.”

He looked confused, but he smiled gratefully, placing his hands on-top of mine- his hooded blue eyes sparkling with moisture.  
  
  
..............................................................................................................................  
  
  
The mortician had arrived to take John’s body, and the cops had spent hours searching the house, the property, and the woods, and found absolutely nothing. 

When they left us, Michael offered up that we should go to our room and rest.

He laid on the bed, silently watching me as I stood at the window- shaking and staring blankly at the scenery. 

I would have to tell Mallory what had happened to John.

How could I tell her the boy she loved more than anything else was gone?

I could not bear the thought. It seemed to drain the life from me, and I stumbled to the bed- falling in beside Michael, who scooped me up into his chest. 

I was relieved as the oblivion of sleep took me over; grateful for one more peaceful rest before the heartache.  
  
  
..........................................................................................................................  
  
  
As I jolted awake, Michael’s face glanced up over his book. 

I tried to sit up, but he pushed his work to the side, and pushed down on the center of my chest. 

“I’m here, y/n. Just rest.”

The pain of everything that had occurred came rushing back then. 

John.

Dead.

Mallory.

He looked me over, putting his hand to my forehead- concern narrowing his features.

I pushed him away, struggling to get up.

“I’m fine. I have to talk to Mallory.”

He sighed in exasperation, propping the pillows behind me, and helping me to sit against them. 

“The house is still quiet. I don’t think she’s woken up.”

I exhaled loudly- trembling at the prospect of telling Mallory what had happened, while simply wanting to get the dreaded task out of the way. 

“Michael…. remember the man I told you about? The one who I encountered in the alley by Cordelia’s?” 

He raised a brow, urging me to continue.

“I think he killed John.”

He narrowed his eyes in confusion; not saying a word. 

He was concealing something. I could see it.

“I have felt that…. _thing_ here, watching me since we’ve returned. I haven’t felt right at all. Not one day.”

“y/n…..you’ve been through a traumatic event. Are you certain this wasn’t something you had saw in a dream?”

“I am _not_ delirious.”

He rubbed my shoulders at my outburst.

“I know, I know. I don’t think you are. I’m sorry. The police looked everywhere, and there was no one here.”

“Then what happened to John? _Someone_ murdered him.”

He went quiet, his hands falling still. 

“What about my Father? You said he put up a fight when you got my ring from him….”

“He is still where I left him.”

“How do you know?” 

“You ask a lot of questions,” he huffed, and I let out a frustrated sigh. 

His face transformed from one of total seriousness, to one of happiness and relief, which took me by surprise. 

“I have to admit, I am just happy we are finally wed, my love. This thing has come at the most inopportune of times.” 

He pressed his lips to my forehead; his kiss lingering there. 

I pulled back.

“’Thing’? As in John’s death?” 

He winced at my tone; crossing his arms over his chest.

“After suffering the loss of my brother, I thought that at least _you_ would offer me the solace of being free of the grief and stress of the day. Come. Let’s not argue.”

Michael laid across the bed, pulling me down, and knitting his fingers through mine. He pressed my head into his neck.

“Death is _never_ allowed to touch you.”

“Michael…. when I found you, when you were sick with fever…you said that _something_ worked. You didn’t want me to know what it was. What worked?”

I felt his tension, and as I glanced up at him, I saw his features were contorted with a rage so strong, it made me physically flinch.

He tried hard to calm his rapid breathing, and next spoke in a tone so calm, I could almost hear every hour I had spent teaching him how to behave and react in a normal manner.

“y/n, I just lost my brother. Can we please postpone this conversation?”

The tears fell down his face now, and he whimpered.

“Oh…Michael. I’m _so_ sorry.”

The door swung open.

There stood Mallory- her usual carefully fixed chestnut hair tangled wildly about her shoulders, and her eyes bleary with sickness and confusion. 

As the door hit the wall with a loud crash, I witnessed Michael’s tears stop in their tracks-his face immediately falling to his calm, icy demeanor like the sadness had never been there to begin with.

And in that moment, I came to the terrible realization that it _hadn’t._.

My face went lax with shock. 

He was faking his grief.

He had seen on my face that I knew it- that I had just found him out- yet, he tried again despite it all; his face resuming it’s sad and forlorn state. 

I pushed myself from his body, and he hid his face in his hands- concealing his manipulative eyes from me.

My breathing picked up. 

I knew I would have to deal with this later, for when I glanced at Mallory, she meekly stated, 

“John is not in his room.”  
  
  
......................................................................................................................  
  
  
I had walked from the room without sparing Michael a single glance, though I felt his eyes fall on me as I took Mallory by the hand and made my exit. 

Telling her the news was as horrific as I assumed it would be. 

When the truth finally broke through, her eyes went wild, and I covered my mouth so I would not cry.

She immediately collapsed, getting sick again, and falling into a feverish state that refused to go.

I took care of her, putting her back to bed where she laid, sunken in with grief, until she finally fell into a fitful sleep. 

My body trembled with exhaustion, though I knew the day was far from over.

I needed to confront Michael.

I wanted him to tell me the truth about everything.

And yet, I did not want it. 

What if it was something so atrocious that I could never forgive, nor love him, again? 

I quietly exited Mallory’s room, and gasped when Michael cleared his throat behind me.

He was standing in the hall, looking lost, and weary, yet his eyes shined with hopeful expectation.

“Come here and talk to me. Don’t leave me alone, please.”

I sighed, making my way toward him, and allowing him to guide me into the room.

He took me by the arm and pulled me to sit at the end of the bed. 

“I know you think I’m a monster,” he mumbled, perching near me.

“Michael—”

“No, let me finish. I’m very sorry that John died so young. It’s unfortunate. But I barely knew him. I was only putting on a show of grief for you because it felt wrong not to mourn him. That’s what you always told me I should do.” 

He draped his hand over my heart, his fingers gently caressing my collar bone, as I pondered the reality I was now faced with. 

Michael was using my tricks on me. 

“I didn’t want you to think badly of me, angel. Was I wrong?” 

His eyes pleaded with mine, and I tried to keep my face devoid of the negativity I felt. 

Though I no longer believed him, I wanted to gather more evidence before I made him tell me all he knew.

I placed my hands on his face, and he nuzzled into my touch, as he always did.

“Would you mind making me some tea?”

He smiled; kissing me gently.

I waited for a minute after he walked out, and then I stood, and looked swiftly around the room. 

I pulled open all the drawers, moving things around until I came to a suspicious wooden box. 

I lifted the lid, and my breath faltered at the harmless trinket inside.

It was Dorian’s beloved purple cloak pin- the one he had left this property wearing- never to be seen again. 

It was here, and he was not.

I moved it between my fingers, my eyes burning with tears. 

Mallory had said she had thought Michael had tried to conceal the piece from her in Cordelia’s home. 

I had chosen to believe that she was merely confused and had seen the gift Michael had bought me. 

Dorian was dead.

The tears came and came. 

I felt insistent eyes on me, and briskly turned their way. 

Michael stood in the doorway; observing me calmly with cold eyes that faintly sparkled with something unknown to me. He had his head cocked to the side giving him the air of a man who was used to commanding, not obeying. 

We stared at one another without a word- the air becoming tense as the seconds dragged on.

He walked closer, tucking two fingers beneath my chin to look into my eyes.

“Is he _really_ worth all that?”

I had the urge to push him out of the door- to lock it against him. 

I thought about taking his precious sewing scissors and stabbing him through the chest.

Instead, I moved my head from his grasp. 

“Why did you kill Dorian? And we both know you’re a liar, so try your best to tell the truth this time.”

He smirked, grabbing my hand. 

I yanked it from him, and he stole it back- his hold so intense after that that there was no escape.

My anger and sadness burned my eyes, and the look in his told me he relished that burn- he _wanted_ to see me mad- he wanted me to lose control.

“Don’t be angry with me.”

“Do you love nothing?” I whispered.

“Only you.”

“You love me so much you would leave me alone here for two years- never writing or answering my letters- not even knowing if I was alive. You care _so_ much that you’d kill my friends…” 

He laughed, shaking his head.

“I knew what you were doing at all times. I paid many people a hefty sum to watch you. Some of them were even at our wedding. I would _never_ leave you alone. I always knew what was going on in your life. I never planned on you finding me, though I should have known you would. You were always so clever,” he said proudly. 

“Did you kill my friend?”

“Of course I did. He betrayed me.”

My body shook as I fought to remain calm.

“This is wrong. You _must_ know that.”

“Wrong? It is ambiguous, _at best._ Some people do not mean anything to the world. Who cares if they should perish?”

He scoffed at my look of horror, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and sighing loudly.

“Some days I get _so_ tired of your intellect, and your constant challenges of me, and just want some of your devotion, and trust. Do I not deserve that?”

“What about your Father? Is he still alive?”

He rolled his eyes. 

“He didn’t want us to be together. He made all of our lives a living hell. Can you not admit that?”

With some hesitation, I took a deep inhale, and asked the question I wanted to know the answer to the least.

I would not lie to myself again.

“And your brother?”

“Yes. I killed them. What does it matter? They would have done nothing good for anyone. Just two more, rich, spoiled, brats- taking up space.”

“What do you mean, ‘them?’

He raised a brow, like he was now confused.

“I had _two_ brothers. One was born before John. But, his death was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it. I left him in the bath too long.”

I shook my head, and stepped back from him- my body trembling with rage and fear.

“What has come over you? I feel as if I don’t even know you anymore. You talk as if you have no heart- no conscience. Like you are not even sorry.”

“I am sorry for hurting you, but not for any other act. It had to be done.” 

My mouth fell open in horror and disbelief, and he blinked several times- his eyes wide, and brows knit closely together. 

“You are upset with me…..I _knew_ you would be. This is why I tried to keep things quiet, my angel. I didn’t want you to know these things I’ve done. I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“I do not blame myself. I blame _you!”_ I screamed.

“You _must have_ known what was going on. How couldn’t you, when I was practically helping you to take out the staff?”

My heart was beating hard against my chest. 

It seemed to be apologizing to the rest of my body, for allowing me to love, and to hope, and then taking it all away.

Everything was starting to make sense.

I had tried so hard to convince myself that my feelings of wrongness were the result of a paranoid mind, but deep down, I think I had always known. 

When I had first brought Mallory here, the previous governess had returned home without a fight. 

At least, that’s what Michael had said. 

I thought it was strange, but I had chosen to ignore it. 

There was a pattern here.

The sense of complicity I felt was profound. 

The dissipation of my identity- even more unbearable. 

Who was I if I wasn’t protecting Michael? Who was I, at the core of me, if I finally stopped pretending?

All the pretenses between us had been stripped away, and now we just stared each other down.

He moved to embrace me, but I pulled myself from his clutches, and he let out a groan of frustration. 

"What wrong act have I done to you personally? Nothing. I love you _so_ much. Do you not love me?” he pleaded.

I refused to speak, and he became enraged; grabbing my shoulders with rough hands. 

“Please, talk to me, y/n.”

“You’re the devil, Michael.”

His eyes blazed with fury at my response. 

“You believe I’m _that_ bad? With all the atrocities that humanity wages on one another- with all the things we’ve _both_ done? _I’m_ the evil one?”

I made to move, and he grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his chest. 

“The devil is modeled after man- we are made in his image. We are _all_ a part of it. Never forget that. _You are just like me.”_

I was carrying devastation and devotion in equal measure, and though I knew that he was something malicious, those feelings of love were still rioting in my heart.

What did he feel for me? 

I didn’t know anymore. But _he_ had made me feel wanted, and necessary. 

Even if it was all nothing but a manipulation, it had been such a beautiful lie to be bathed in the light of his love.

“You can call me a devil, a demon, a monster, all you want. But _everything_ I do is for our future; a world where we will never be separated by disease, or death.”

His countenance shifted, and his eyes turned childish and innocent. He pressed me further into his arms, kissing up my neck, and my body betrayed me by pushing itself further into his heat.

“How many people have you killed?” I whispered. 

“A lot. Ten? Maybe more, probably more,” he breathed out between open-mouthed kisses.

“I’m relieved you finally know. We can move on now. And since john is gone….I guess Mallory can probably go too.”

I pulled myself from his grasp violently, taking him by surprise.

“You will not touch her!” I screamed.

He stood there, breathing hard, as he watched me move towards the door.

“What do you think you’re doing? Do not leave this room, y/n. I need you. You’re all I have.”

His voice was so soft; it took my breath away, but I knew it for what it was- a desperate effort to save us.

“I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say, Michael. You are truly mad if you think I would continue to abide by your presence or love you in any way. I can’t even look at you.”

“And what if I choose to never leave you alone? What will you do about it? Will you run away?”

My eyes betrayed me then, and his lit up with the revelation. 

“So you _did_ want to run from me…..Just know, I will _always_ find you. There is nothing that will keep me away from you.

I sobbed then; my body seeming to collapse on itself. 

He swiftly moved to catch me- allowing me to rest against him as he tilted my chin up- delicately wiping the tears from my face.

“You are crying….you’re afraid. There is no need to be. You _know_ me. Just love me. All I want is your love. I will _never_ hurt you again.”

I stumbled out of his grasp, and then moved forward to slap him.

In a second, he was on me, tightening his hold as he forced me to look at him- his blue eyes searing through my flesh. 

His nostrils flared as he closed the door and locked it. 

He released me with a sigh; leaning back against the wood and blocking my escape. 

“This is _not_ how I wanted our first week of marriage to go, y/n. Why are you doing this to us?”

I couldn’t hold back anymore and began to hit his chest with all the fury of disappointment and betrayal I had kept in for so long. 

He grabbed my wrists, pulling me to the ground with him, and pinning my hands above my head.

“I am your husband, and I _own_ you. You _will_ submit to me,” he snarled, leaning down to forcefully press his lips to mine.

He moaned, gently pushing my face back to deepen the kiss, but I kept my lips pressed tight, until he pulled away with wide eyes.

His pupils swirled with regret and pain as he looked upon my shivering form helplessly.

He averted his eyes, helping me up, and moving to the wall, where he slowly sank to the floor. 

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, y/n. I’m losing the person I used to be. And I can’t make you understand it, because I can’t even explain it to myself.”

I walked an inch towards him, but he held out a hand, stopping me.

“Don’t come any closer,” he begged, his eyes pleading with mine.

“Tell me you won’t hurt anyone else. Promise me, Michael.”

He shook his head, his eyes falling from mine.

“No?”

“I can’t, y/n. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want to lie to you again.”

His eyes held onto mine once more- lingering with intensity. 

“If I can’t say it for some reason…..know that I love you. I love you more than whatever is happening to me- whatever is taking me over.”

My heart dropped at his words, and I knew. 

I walked to him, falling to my knees and taking his face in my hands. 

We met in the middle with a passionate kiss.

He kissed me like he would never get the honor to do so again, and my heart ached with a fierce love that I wished I didn’t carry.

I had to bide my time until it was safe to retrieve Mallory and go. 

_Someone_ had to leave first. 

This time, it would be me.

I was going on my honeymoon- one without a groom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The things I wrote about the wedding ceremony were real things that occurred in the 1800s! Breakfast was served, because they were usually held in the morning or afternoon, and fruitcake was used for wedding cake (barf.) 
> 
> You really weren’t supposed to look at the guests as you walked down the aisle! And after the reception, it was common for the bride to bring a female friend with her on the honeymoon. As the couple left for their trip, people would throw rice and shoes at them. Wtf? 
> 
> The guests would decorate the couple’s home with symbols of good luck like wishbones and bells.  
> Brides tended to wear colors like purple, dark blue, brown, red, and gold, as white was too expensive back then.
> 
> PS. The true angst has only just begun, and I mean that with my deepest condolences haha.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions mount as reader makes plans to flee, and tries to disguise those plans from Michael.
> 
> Warnings: Angst. Mentions of smut.

** “The tamer my love, the farther away it is from love. In fierceness, in heat, in longing, in risk, I find something of love’s nature. In my desire for you, I burn at the right temperature to walk through love’s fire. So when you ask me why I cannot love you more calmly, I answer that to love you calmly is not to love you at all." **

Since I had made the decision to take Mallory and leave the home, there was an immense sense of expectation and dread; as if the blade of a guillotine hung above us, and could fall at any moment. 

After Michael had confessed to killing his brothers and his father, I had tried to go on as if nothing had changed between us. But then I would think of Dorian, and remember the ominous looks and words Michael would aim in Mallory’s direction, and I began to find it immensely difficult to pretend that all was well.

Even though he had warned me to stay away from him, that night, he had entered my room and laid his head in my lap.

“Do you still love me?”

I had remained quiet; my fingers drifting through his hair.

Would I had done any of this if I didn’t love him? Would I be leaving if I weren’t so shattered about this new person wearing his skin?

“I love you very much,” I whispered- hoping he would understand later- once I had fled. “I always will. Until death takes me, and, perhaps, even afterwards---”

He was suddenly up, and walking from the room; slamming the door shut behind him. 

My hand remained perched in the air where his head had been; my eyes wide and bewildered. 

That night, I slept alone. 

The nightmares never stopped now, and every dream featured the voice of the stranger who had stolen a kiss from my lips. He would whisper to me. It seemed he was directly at my ear.

“An unprotected, sweet little mouse like you…. You have yet to learn the ways of this wicked world, my darling. But you will come to find out… oh, yes.”

I would wake with a start- the smell of cinnamon drifting away as the sun rose- Michael’s form always absent from the bed. 

Upon rising, the pang of despair would immediately set in. 

I knew the troubles I went to sleep with would still be there upon waking, but now that terrible, gut-wrenching feeling of premonition took up lodging, as well.

I was terrified for what was to come, and scared that Michael would notice how insincere I was being, and would decipher my plans.

He removed all those who stood in his way. I knew, without a doubt, that leaving was the right decision. Mallory and I could not live this way. More and more I felt she was in danger. 

I knew I must forget him. I had to push my love to the side, and bide my time.

I had never been so unhappy. 

It was clear to me that I would never experience another love like this. There would be a constant ache in my heart that wouldn’t fade with the years- a longing for something that would never come to pass. I feared this bleak future.

Though we were now married, Michael and I had never been so removed from one another. Though I did not sleep in his bed those first nights, he had begun to enter mine without permission. I would wake to find him coiled- snake-like- around my form. 

Sometimes, I would catch him coming into my room late into the evening- the smell of the air on his clothing. Like always, he refused to disclose where he had been. 

I was suspicious, but even in my distrust, I came to cherish his visits, as they were the times when I would be most aware of his love for me. 

His cold eyes would turn tender, and a bit sad, and I would sigh with the relief that, _yes_ , he could, in fact, feel _something._

But still, I was not naïve to the fact that a large part of his adoration was based solely upon his possession of me.

“This is _my_ wife.” 

Yet, I still craved him, just the same, and whatever happened previously- whatever _continued_ to happen- I never fully lost that longing to be swallowed up by his touch. 

Each morning, that uncrossable landscape between us seemed to widen a bit more. Little fights were a daily occurrence.

I sat in the garden- thinking of all I had to do- when suddenly I felt a blanket being wrapped around my shoulders- a mellow voice softening my nerves.

“My poor darling. You’re shivering out here in the cold. Let me take you to bed.”

Before I could protest, Michael had lifted me into his arms. 

“Please put me down.”

He ignored me; laughing and pressing my head further into his chest. He continued up the path to the house until I screamed- swinging my limbs against him.

“I said put me down!”

He stopped, quickly dropping me to my feet. I stumbled, and he caught my arm before I could fall; his fingers digging into the flesh.

“I see you’re being tiresome again.”

The disdain in his voice momentarily wounded me, but I wrapped my arms around my body, and turned away.

“If you think so, then leave me alone, like I wish.”

Before I could make it back to my seat in the garden, long arms entrapped me, and pulled me backwards. His fingers gripped my chin- forcing my gaze up to his narrowed, blazing eyes.

“Stop this behavior, Y/N.”

His fingers pressed roughly as I tried to evade him.

“What could I have possibly done for you to despise me this much?”

“You know what you’ve done, Michael.”

He looked every bit the petulant, angry child when faced with my disappointment, but it soon faded, and he scoffed- his lips curving up devilishly- as he pressed closer. 

“We only fight when we talk. So, let’s stop talking.”

“You have killed people I love.”

His lips were but an inch from mine when he stilled- his nostrils flaring, and his jaw tense.

“Will you hold that against me all our lives?”

I was in disbelief at his nonchalant tone- as if _I_ were the one hurting him. 

He sighed loudly at my outrage, and let me go; waving his wrist in a bored manner.

“Well, you will have to be _in my life_ to show me this resentment you hold so dear, so do what you will, my angel.”

Without a word, I turned from him, and walked into the house; leaving him alone in the chilly air.

On the way to my room, I was suddenly slammed against the wall. 

Michael’s eyes were black with fury 

“I understand now,” he hissed; pinning both my wrists down as I fought against him.

His free hand weaved through my hair, and tugged down roughly- his teeth latching onto the delicate skin of my throat. I yelped, but it only seemed to encourage him, as his breathlessly whispered my name between kisses and nips. I went limp around his suffocating hold- my eyes fluttering shut. 

“You’re not leaving me. _You’re mine_. I’d advise you to remember that.”

I heard a click as he left me- closing the library door behind him- and shutting me out.

I struggled to catch my breath-; my wedding ring cutting into my palm, as I thought on how to fix the situation that I found myself in. 

He suspected something. I needed to assuage his fears right away, or my plans would be for nothing.

When he next slipped into my bed, I allowed his hands to wander. I let him do what he wanted. 

As much as it shamed me, I enjoyed his greedy touches because- for a short period- I no longer thought of anything except the pleasure. 

I couldn’t think straight when he held me to the bed by my throat; his lips wrapping around a nipple. 

I couldn’t think on the faces of his victims when the area between my thighs burned so appealingly. 

He kept me close those nights- his grip never loosening. 

That seemed to be all he wanted to do- hold me in his arms, in bed. 

Stare at me. 

Touch me in places he shouldn’t. 

Yet, in the light of day, the tension still remained. 

I tried to avoid his hawk-like stare as I completed my daily chores. I took care of Mallory, who had barely left her bed; still in mourning over the loss of John. I vowed to write in my journal, but his unrelenting gaze disturbed me.

He was _always_ watching.

“Why do you suffer so much, my love?”

I put down my pen, and finally looked at him.

“You’re all locked up in that little world of yours. Every so often, you glance at me from the doorway, but you never let me in. I won’t be able to fix a thing until you open the door to me… until you _tell me_ what it is that’s bothering you.”

There was a beat of silence as I pondered what to say. I even had a small vestige of hope that I could finally get through to him, and make him see the error of his ways.

“What is it that you love about me, Michael?”

He seemed confused- his body in a pose of ease as he laid back on the daybed. 

His list was immediate. 

I had always helped him, loved him, and propped him up when he needed it the most. 

“Those are things about you. Tell me about myself. What do you feel for _me,_ separate from you?”

“You don’t like my answers, hmm?” 

His voice was dangerously low, yet his eyes gleamed with amusement. 

“Well how about this? We are not separate. You’re my _wife_ , Mrs. Langdon, and you belong to me.”

My fury sparked then, and I stood from my chair, walking to him, and yelling straight into his face. 

“That’s all you _really_ care about, isn’t it?! Owning me!”

He sat up as I screamed- his eyes alight, and his body rigid with excitement. 

“You have no claim on me! I belong to no one!”

He smiled, and pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

“My love, every moment I spend with you convinces me further that I cannot ever live without you by my side.”

I pushed him away, and took a deep breath.

I felt faint.

My lips still stung from his kiss.

“I must clear my head. I am going for a walk around the lake.”

He grabbed my shoulders, refusing to allow me to pass through the doorway. 

“You are trembling, angel. You love me _very_ much, it seems. Look at the emotion I stir in you.”

His eyes were beautiful, yet, cold. They didn’t speak as they used to. To look at them was to gaze into the deepest, darkest hole, and I was afraid to look too long as this man I had loved.

“Your whole existence has always revolved around caring for me— _loving_ me. What has changed between us?”

His fingertips traveled over my cheek; and I turned from his mocking voice- my eyes filling with tears. 

“You refuse to accept any love I give you. What is it that you want from me?”

“What I want, you cannot provide.”

“I can provide _anything_ you desire.”

“But _will you_?”

He raised a brow- and I continued.

“What I would like is for you to leave me alone. Do not hover about me at all times. Let me take pleasure in things other than you.”

His lips trembled at my words- his icy eyes turning hazy with unshed tears. 

Then they narrowed, and he grabbed me, and pressed his lips to mine. 

I allowed him to hold me for a split second. He caressed my back- crushing my body further into his- his soft words falling into the crook of my neck.

“You think I am punishing you, but I simply want to keep you safe. If you want to walk, I will go with you.”

“If there is danger, I must be able to choose whether or not I walk into it. If I don’t have a choice in this- I am warning you now- I will continue to be unhappy.”

He growled in frustration; his hands tightening around my waist. 

“Do you hate me this much? Are you trying to drive me mad? You ask too much from me.”

“I love you, Michael. Very much. I simply need to be allowed to live.”

I gently grabbed him, and forced him to face me.

“My life has always revolved around you. You’re right. You could exalt me for everything I’ve done for you. You could trust me to make the right decisions, as I’ve never let you down before. Yet, you mock me. What have I done to deserve this treatment?”

He let me go, and paced the room for a few seconds, before falling into the chair by the fire.

“You’re acting so strange,” he proclaimed.

My heart fell. 

He would never understand. He brought everything back to him, unable to see how someone could desire things he didn’t, or want a different life.

All he saw was himself.

I walked to the window- staring out over the desolate landscape that I knew so well. 

I could feel his gaze upon me- imploring me to turn around. I tried to fight it, but the silence was unbearable, and I felt myself turning, like a flower does towards the sun.

“Now that we’re releasing our pent-up animosities, would you care to hear how I’m feeling?”

His dead eyes were now very alert, and frantically searching mine.

“Bruised,” he whispered. 

My eyes lazily traveled his form. I was no longer intently listening.

My heart was too crushed.

“It’s not a pain you can see on the outside, my love.” 

Our eyes met, and he raised a hand- motioning for me.

“Come here. Come and kiss me, Y/N. Kiss me, and tell me that you’re with me- that your love has not abandoned me.”

I almost went to him- taking the first careful steps in his direction. 

Then I stopped; shaking my head sadly, and averting my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I fear that anymore of this conversation, and my love for you will be forever destroyed.”

I could feel his disbelief as I walked from the room. It seemed to follow me through the house, and out the front door. 

There was a sadness and rage within me. 

I felt as if I were a widow- like the man I loved had died, and maybe he had.

I needed air.

I had just made it to the edge of the woods when I began to cry.

At some point, I had laid down on the bare Earth. The tears wouldn’t stop. They soaked the ground around me.

Eventually, I felt the energy shift as he approached. I smelled him. 

And I was too tired to protest any longer.

I kept my eyes sealed tightly as he wrenched me into his arms, and carried me swiftly back to my prison.

Our clothes had been shed hours ago.

I laid in the bed- my back to him- his fingers trailing up and down the notches of my spine.

I could feel the wheels in his head turning as he thought on what to say now that he had gotten his way, and the physical part of the night was over. 

He pressed his nude body against mine.

“I love you.”

“You love yourself.”

He rubbed his cheek softly against my temple.

“Yes. And next to myself- _you._ Only you.”

“If you love me so much, why can you never trust me? Why must your domination of me extend everywhere? Do I not deserve a life? I need your trust.”

“And I need _you,”_ he bit out. “I would be miserable if something ever happened. Without you, there is no me.”

“And without freedom, there is no love.”

I turned suddenly, taking him by surprise.

“There is nothing I crave more than your trust and respect.”

He wrapped a possessive hand around my throat- a warning in his eyes.

“There is nothing _I_ want more than to be with you.”

“Have I done something to not deserve freedom? To be denied a life of my own?”

I could see his eyes hardening with betrayal and fear.

“It’s just like a woman to twist my words to make them fit a narrative. You do not understand.”

I laughed incredulously. 

“You think I fail to understand you, Michael? As if it’s hard to understand the nature of man. The superior gender, you are not.”

He smirked.

“Respect? You think I do not value your sex, but that’s where you’re wrong. I love females. There are so many divine things that women do. Who should any of us men be without them?”

His chiding tone only increased my anger.

“You are arrogant, and selfish. You’ve yet to learn that other people exist outside of you. You do not, and CANNOT, own _anyone._ A soul is not yours to keep! _”_

His previously gentle grip turned harsh- his words biting.

“Maybe so. But you are required to be here, by law. You are here for my pleasure. What you desire is no matter to me, sweetheart.”

“I am not sweetheart!” I screamed. 

He let go of my neck, and sat back to examine me; his brow raised in amusement. 

“For once, do not think of me as a woman. Think of me as a person- an equal.”

“I already do.”

“You do not! You always told me I was the same as you- that my sex didn’t matter. Now that we’re married, you’ve went back on your word. You hate that I’m a woman who behaves in a manner that you consider more akin to a man. You want to own me. You said it yourself.”

“What are you going on about, now? I simply don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. Don’t be idiotic, Y/N!”

“I can take care of myself. I know about the dangers of the world!”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING!”

He threw a glass that sat near the bed. I jumped as it shattered against the wall; the remnants falling against the floor.

He looked ashamed for a second, and averted his eyes from mine. I saw his lips go into a pout just as he turned from me, and went silent.

I watched him sleep- the crumbled violet staining my fingers. 

It wouldn’t be too long now.

Weeks prior, I had written Cordelia- leaving the house in the middle of the night to send it off without Michael’s knowledge.

I had to row across the lake, and travel miles in the darkness- avoiding the snakes and strange men that prowled the night.

In the note, I told her that she must come and fetch Mallory and me as soon as possible. I created a plan, and told her not to write back, as she was wont to do.

She never did, so I knew that she understood. 

On the morning of her arrival, she was to pin a violet to the front door. This was a signal that she had made it, and that Mallory and I were to be ready at midnight. 

That morning, I had found the flower, and the midnight hour crept close.

I snuck out of bed, and walked quietly to Mallory’s room to wake her. 

I had informed her of this day weeks before. She had stared at me in understanding, yet she didn’t say a word. It was the same way she looked at me now, as I wrapped a cloak around the both of us.

The life had left her eyes when John had died, and had never returned. I only hoped that, with time, it would return. 

Maybe this was the starting point.

We walked outside empty-handed. We wouldn’t be taking anything but the clothes on our backs. We were prepared to lose everything in order to gain the freedom we desired. Though my head was intent on my decision, my heart pounded with a devasting pain.

Once we made it across the lake, we exhaled in relief at seeing that Cordelia’s carriage was already in place- waiting for us to arrive. I took a final look back at the Langdon home. 

Mallory did not.

I sat in the dark carriage- the rocking motion putting me into a trancelike state. 

My eyes were trained on a spot in the distance- my mind lost in an array of excruciating thoughts. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. This is just what you and Mallory need—a fresh start. I will be there for the both of you the whole way.”

I glanced at Cordelia. 

She was holding a sleeping Mallory to her breast, and I smiled softly, in response. 

“Thank you. For everything.”

She nodded sadly, and I turned back to the window.

“Admiring the scenery?” 

“I’m saying goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think that Michael is going to allow this? LMAO, let me know!
> 
> The beginning of the end. Enjoy the ride!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader plays hide and seek with Michael. 
> 
> Warnings: Murder, description of violence done towards animals.

**“Dance and sing.**

**Time’s on the wing.**

**Life never knows the return of spring.**

**Let us drink and sport today.**

**Love with youth flies swift away.”**

It seemed as if we had been traveling over bumpy roads for centuries; moving further from Michael, and the life I had known. As we made our way through the countryside, I thought about him.

What was his reaction upon waking to find us gone? Would he think something terrible had happened? Or would he know right away that I had deceived him, and willingly left?

I was filled with an uncomfortable pang of guilt that refused to go, and I spent much of the ride paranoid that he had discovered our plot, and was slyly following behind us; waiting for the opportune moment to strike, and drag me back to that miserable manor.

But as the Sun rose above the horizon, and the darkness continued to fade, my fear began to relax itself. 

In the hours since we had entered the carriage, Cordelia and I had not slept- almost as if we had an unspoken pact between us to keep watch. Mallory, on the other hand, had not stirred. She was propped up against Cordelia’s side; her mouth slightly open, and her neck tilted at an unpleasant angle.

I was worried about my friend. She had lost so much, and may continue to lose if we weren’t careful. I was beginning to worry about Cordelia just as much. She had not said a word in hours. Her focus stayed on the scenery outside of the window.

I looked her over- this woman that I had first treated with suspicion- and then grew to trust more than anyone else. Her amber eyes were ringed by dark circles, and her usually immaculate hair was hanging down, free from the pins she wore. I saw worry and exhaustion on her countenance.

“Where are we going?”

I smiled apologetically as she jumped at the sound of my voice.

“A friend of my Uncle. He resides in an old manor; hidden away in the countryside. We will be safe there. Don’t worry.”

She did not look certain, though she fought to hide that fear.

Now she was the one watching me.

I had been unconsciously twisting my wedding ring- a nervous habit that started as soon as Michael had placed it on my finger. I knew I should take the piece of jewelry off. I _was_ running away from the man who had gifted it to me. But it had belonged to my Mother as well, and I couldn’t find it in me to part with it.

“It’s not your fault, you know…… When you love someone, you tend to see their flaws in a different light. You make excuses for them….It’s natural.”

“Flaws….” I muttered, warily; allowing my hands to fall limply back to the cushion. “Tell me, Cordelia….. have you heard from your dear uncle yet?”

I saw a flash of understanding in her eyes, and a pinprick of fear- one of the first real reactions she had shown me during this dangerous journey. But then the warmth reappeared, and she reached forward; gently taking my hand into hers.

“You were a mere child when the Langdon’s manipulated you into taking care of their troubled son. They had no right to ask such a thing of a young girl! You were afraid of him---were you not?”

“Yes, I was afraid. And I still am. _Very_ afraid. But it is not just that, Cordelia. Fear is _not_ the sole factor that binds me to Michael. If it were only fear, I could at least assuage my conscience with the knowledge that I was being hurt--that I was too naïve to know how wrong I was each time I covered up for him- that I was afraid of what he might do if I didn’t…..But I knew from the first day how far I would go to protect him. No… it wasn’t terror that led me down that path. I never _truly_ worried that he would hurt me if I did not comply. I only worried he would hurt others……and then I’d have to cover that up, as well.”

“Y/N…When Michael hurts the people you care about, he _is_ hurting you.”

I tried to drop her hand, but she wouldn’t allow it. Instead, her gaze became even more intense.

“I have something to confess. When you first wrote to me of your missing friend Dorian, I had a terrible feeling. You see, I had heard Michael talk to my uncle about Dorian, and never in a friendly manner. He hated him, and was certain he was trying to steal you away. Your letter scared me. And then the bodies were discovered. There were multiple—men, women, and children. Because they were found in the river near Michael’s lodgings, the rumors spread swiftly. There were whisperings that his abode had a chute connected to it, and that the chute in question led directly to that river. He has the reputation with the townspeople as being some kind of….mad scientist, or evil vampire- even the Devil himself. _Everyone_ fears him. Though they knew he may be responsible for the events happening around town, no one dared approach him, or pry too much. They were simply happy to see him go…..Y/N, I believe that Dorian and my uncle are both in that river- along with dozens of others. Some bodies only remained in bits and pieces---not enough to be identified, so I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

I could barely meet her eyes then, though I knew I should be forced to take a long, hard look. I deserved any wrath she might feel towards me and my cowardice.

“Do you know what he’s been doing---- why he would need bodies, or human subjects?”

“I do not.” I shook my head. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I recalled the house on the riverbank- a place filled with stench, and rotting skin, and nightmares. “I’ve tried to find out, but he pushes me away each time, and becomes hysterical. I had assumed he was hurting people on accident- when his emotions would get away from him. But I know it’s more than that. He _enjoys_ opening up the bodies of things that were once alive. He wants to see what differentiates a human and an animal. And he’s always had this obsession with death, and trying to prevent it.”

I took a quick glance at Mallory; focusing on her breathing, and making certain she was asleep. I had told her this particular story many times, but had never revealed the ending. 

“On the day Michael and I were first introduced, we went out to the woods behind his house. In my desperate bid to impress him, I climbed into a tree and brought down a nest of robin’s eggs….”

“And did you impress him?”

“He was only slightly amused. He was more impressed with the fact that I kept a straight face while he brought out a knife, and cut out each bird from the shell. After that- he was ecstatic. He made sure to tell me he only wanted to observe their hearts and their veins--- to see how it all worked together to keep a creature alive- but he held them in the palm of his hand as each little life was extinguished, one by one. He then asked if he should cut open the feathered creatures to see why the hearts had stopped beating. And I- pathetic creature that I was- nodded, and looked on; saying, and doing nothing. Just like with Dorian. I knew something was wrong when he disappeared…”

“They may not be connected, Y/N. I had a suspicion, but killing a bird is different than killing a person. A _suspicion_ is different—"

“It was more than a suspicion. I never came out and asked whether he was killing people, but I _knew._ The convenient disappearances of staff who were never heard from again….. his silent, knowing glances……. Many times, he wanted to tell me- I could see that clearly- but he held back. Perhaps he thought he was protecting me by staying silent. Maybe I thought I was protecting him in turn by covering it up. Or… maybe I was thanking him---for not allowing me to harbor the guilt all by myself. I’m not certain….. I used to attribute his frenzies to the way he was brought up. His father was cruel, and his mother was uncaring. For penance, I tried hard to convert him into a being with a heart and a soul. I had hope that I could- if I just loved him enough. But I have learned he has zero remorse for his actions. I’m not even sure he can feel it all. He admitted everything to me _only_ when I threatened to leave. He wanted me to take responsibility for my part. Dorian, his brothers, his father, the staff…..he killed them all. He said he did it to protect me…”

Cordelia looked away; averting her eyes to the floor of the carriage. I kept my gaze trained on her; refusing to hide. If she allowed the disgust she felt to mark her features, I wanted to see it- to feel the pain it brought. But the lashing never came, so I continued to confess- intent on receiving my punishment.

“And I can’t say that I always disliked his method of protection. No one had ever cared enough to be possessive of me, and I bathed in the glow- feeling set-aside, and suspicious when things were too calm. I used Dorian to provoke him, and covet that intensity once more. I didn’t feel anything for Dorian, but I made the poor boy believe I might one day, if I was just given time. I knew Michael was violent- that he attacks the source of his pain without consideration for the consequences. But- in the end- the aftermath was more important to me. The moment when the big drama would end, and he would take me into his arms, and lavish me with the attention and adoration I craved so dearly. He seemed content to love me, and me, alone.”

I sighed, feeling lighter at sharing some of the many secrets I had kept contained for so long. The light from the rising Sun threw sparks off the gem ensnaring my finger; the kaleidoscope of color danced along the carriage walls.

“What happens now? I am having trouble believing that running away was ever an option--- that things could be that easy for me. They never are.”

“Get it all out, Y/N,” she whispered; squeezing my hand. “The only thing we can do is try our best with what we’re given. And you can continue to share your heart with me. You’ll heal that way.”

She suddenly dropped my hand. I was sure she was deep inside her head- thinking on memories of a life- her own aches and regrets, and people and places I would never know. Her voice sounded hollow; weighed down by some crushing knowledge of which I was unaware.

“Thank God that the passing of time can do so much. What a terrible thing if it couldn’t.”

I smiled, and kept quiet- knowing that time could not wash us clean.

The opening of the heart had never had the power to restore or mend.

_Not in my life._

It simply stayed a gaping, festering wound; spreading poison in its wake.

“If it’s any consolation…. I _do_ believe that Michael loves you deeply. In his own way…Your plight was not in vain.”

“We’ve spent a lifetime together. I cannot fully hate him. Even now, his kind of ferocity feels like love to me. And I feel diseased by the knowledge. How do I get over this sickness, Cordelia? Will I ever go into remission? Will it stay that way?”

…………………………………………………………………

I felt a sinister sensation as we pulled up to the beautiful country estate. The dread seemed to blanket the land, and all of us who stood on its grounds. 

I could not help but think that Michael’s darkness had traveled directly to me, all the way from the Langdon homestead.

Cordelia’s friend was there to greet us; showing us all to our rooms, and taking care not to ask questions. In fact, he could barely meet our eyes.

His behavior raised my hackles, and I made it a point to watch him closely. Further on into our new living arrangement, I came to discover that Victor was a shy, intelligent man who enjoyed his alone time. His main interest was in the arts- especially reading and painting. Most afternoons, he could be spotted sitting in a field a half mile out; indulging in his cherished hobbies, and smoking rolled tobacco.

Once a week, Victor would make his way into town; returning with fresh provisions. He also came bearing news, which he would relay to us quickly, before going back to his solo activities. He was out and about so often it began to feel as if were living on our own. Three women, minus the intrusion of the male species. Our affection towards one another increased until Cordelia and Mallory became my sisters- the family I had always wanted.

Victor taught us a lot when he chose to grace us with his presence, and Cordelia was our anchor- helpful and stable. It was restorative to watch Mallory as the light returned to her eyes, and she began to heal from John’s death.

Though each day would start and end the same, I didn’t mind.

There were many happy times, and the routine brought me something I had never experienced.

There was no one that needed me, or made impossible demands, and I wasn’t at the whim of Michael’s irrational urges that often led to the grave.

Still, the pain _did_ come.

Sometimes, it came on like a tidal wave; taking me off guard, and sweeping me from shore.

I felt as if I were in a period of private mourning- grieving a person who passed, though they still walked the earth.

Some hours were harder than others- the heartbreak so excruciating that I would have rather died than lived through another second. Anything could trigger it, and it would frequently take my breath away—this longing.

I would be in the midst of a random chore when his face would suddenly trample through my memory, without my consent.

I was always a liar, and even now, I worked hard to conceal this hurt from those around me. I was still living my life through half-truths: that didn’t go when I left Michael behind, and neither did the hope I always carried when it came to him.

It was a ray of sunshine in me that refused to burn out.

The separation was a torturous affliction to my being. The loss lingered like a predator stalking the woods, and I had told the beast I loved it- meaning every word.

I knew I had to stop yearning for what could have been. The past was finished, and I must begin anew; as I had done so often. But, I found I could not forget a single moment that happened between us. Even in a new setting, I was unchained from Michael in body only.

If there was a way to erase everything that had taken place, I would have submitted to it. I knew it was never wise to admit this—Cordelia would say that I would be forfeiting all the knowledge I had gained from the experience of my doomed love—but I wasn’t sure I had learned anything of value.

I was certain that forgetting was the only way I could unlock the door to my cage, and set myself free, for as long as I remembered Michael Langdon- what we shared, _and_ what we lost—I would never _truly_ be untethered.

And the bad dreams had followed me to the countryside.

In my new nightmares, a man continually puts a pillow against my face; halting my breath. A haunting laugh travels through the room; the delightful cadence sending a shiver down my spine, and waking me up with a jolt.

I frequently dreamt of murderous specters- the most disturbing being a vision of Michael. He sits near my bed, and clutches my hand to his lips; crying tears of anguish. Each time I have this dream, his voice sounds further away- as if I am hearing it through a tunnel.

“I felt your heartbeat die.”

…………………….

One bright, sunny day, Victor informed us that a traveling carnival had come to town. We felt like young girls then- immediately setting off- our hearts bright with the adventures that we might have discovered.

It was crowded.

Most had come to browse table after table of handmade items, and luxuries. There was something for just about anyone. Perfumes, makeup, scarves, and jewels of every color and variance sat ripe for the picking.

We bypassed the crowd, and traveled along the edges of a big tent. I locked eyes with the sideshow workers inside- the ones considered ‘deviant.’ The exhibit marked ‘The Hunger Artist’ stopped me.

Inside, a young man sat smiling; looking gaunt, and on the edge of death. He was starving before the world, and making the choice to do so. It affected me terribly, though I could not say why.

I turned, and quickly walked away. In my haste, I nearly ran over a tall man. He promptly grabbed my elbows in a bid to steady me.

As our eyes met, I felt a tremor wrack my body. He noticed my shudder, and removed his hands; holding them up in surrender as if I were a wild animal he was trying to assuage.

“Miss….may I read your palm?”

I hesitated- my mind immediately believing that the man meant to con us of our money, or even worse.

“Can I take a peek into your future?”

I glanced at Cordelia and Mallory over my shoulder. They were confused, but did not appear to be as suspicious as I. Instead, they were curious over what he thought he could find, marked on my skin.

“You can tell my past and my future by looking at my palm?”

“The past doesn’t concern me,” he said, stepping close, and lightly taking up my hand. “It is done, and over with. I only see what is yet to come. The _ending_.”

His eyes glinted as he finished speaking. He did not wait for my permission. He turned it over; examining my palm only briefly before his eyes fluttered shut. And I found myself following suite soon after.

“You are at a turning point in your life. This new direction must be met with absolute caution on your part. I see a strange house----full of shadows and darkness. I see many men. One is alive, the others are undoubtedly dead. The one who lives in surrounded by the shadows. They call to him. They cling.”

I could feel the moment that my friends stepped up beside me. Mallory kept a tight grip around my arm. Cordelia stood so close I could feel her breath drift against my neck.

“Someone else is here,” he murmured, his nails leaving impressions as his fingers dug into my skin. “This ‘other’ is not a man, though he often portrays himself that way.”

Did they feel what I did in that moment? That tingle of recognition, and dread?

“Do not believe him. Do not accept his conditions, no matter how bad the pain may be, or how much you feel you have to. Do _not_ hold the hand of the devil.”

The palm readers grip became painful, and I leaned into the hurt as a memory assailed me. One of the homeless man from Cordelia’s town. He had informed me that there was no escape- that I was _already_ wrapped in the clutches of Lucifer.

Darkness was trying to take me away. It felt the same as when I laid in my sickbed- drifting between the precipice of death, and my real life. It had come back, and it wanted me to follow. It urged me to keep my eyes shut tight.

I opened them.

My gaze immediately fell on surprised orbs of the fortune teller. Strangely, my friends were not beside me as I had thought them to be. They still stood a few feet away.

“How much do we owe you, sir?” Cordelia said, taking a step forward.

The palm reader snatched his hand away from me; looking as if he were uncomfortable. He shook his head, and walked quickly away; never taking a backwards glance, and we silently watched him go.

“What nonsense!” Cordelia shouted.

The rest of the day was so joyous and care-free that even the strange man could not ruin it for us. For beauty, we were willing to forget it all, and we did.

I took this as a sign of impending happiness to come—that our resilience was only growing, and would continue to mount. I even dared to hope that the fog would that had always followed me would finally dissipate- even if it never cleared entirely.

This was the day that I realized I wanted something else for my life.

I did not want to be shroud in dread and dreams, nor bound by the chains of fate.

I longed to feel the Sun, in all its glory.

………………………………….

The next morning went a bit differently than was normal in our house.

Victor had informed us all that he was tired, and wanted to finish his book down by the river. He did not have the energy to go to town. Cordelia told him to go and read- that she would get what we needed in town, and Mallory would accompany her.

I had seen them off, and spent the day doing random chores. I had just come in from gathering wildflowers, and was humming quietly to myself, when the sight of blood stopped me where I stood.

Crimson footprints emerged from the kitchen, traveling through the living room and into the foyer, before trailing away; up the stairs.

The front door had been hanging wide open when I had come in from the field, but in my distracted state, I had barely noticed. I turned and saw that it had remained that way. It swayed lightly in the breeze.

The distant birdsong was gone. Besides the fraught sound of my breathing, everything was dreadfully silent. I felt like a hunted rabbit- just like I had when I was a girl. The instinct to run and hide was so strong that it propelled me to drop the flowers, and step into the darkened room beside me. I knew from my previous explorations of the house that it was a space that Victor used for storage, and that it was practically empty. I softly shut the door behind me, and stood trembling, in the dark.

My mind traveled to my friends. I could only hope that the blood did not belong to them- that they remained out of the house, and would not return.

What had happened in the time I had went to pick flowers?

I began to strain my ears; listening for the slightest sound that would alert me to the danger I faced. But the dead silence continued to linger, and my fear rose to an insurmountable degree.

The door flew open, and hit the wall with a crash.

I gasped; my body tensing, and preparing to fight whoever I would see standing in the foyer of the house.

Strangely, there was no one there.

The light from the front door streamed into the black of the storage room; illuminating me and my surroundings. Someone was responsible for the violent opening of the door. How had they escaped my view?

My breath caught as I watched a black mass slowly fill the doorway; blocking out the light behind it. It was darker than darker, though I could see through it completely. The presence of this shadow figure was so strong that I was glued to the spot in my fear; unable to move.

Even though there was not a man before me, I found myself reacting as if there were. It felt masculine and dangerous, and I could barely face it. To escape the threat, I quickly shut my eyes.

Then came a beguiling voice.

Was I going mad?

_Open your eyes, little mouse. Look at me._

Was I going mad? And why did I yearn to obey the silken-voiced phantom?

Then came a slow trickle of something unknown, making its way up my body.

I opened my eyes- thoughts of the ominous figure completely forgotten as this new sensation took over.

It told me that I _must_ turn, and look into the dark room that lay behind my back.

It was not the same as the thing before me, but something else entirely. Both fought one another for my attention.

I turned to look behind me- answering to a calling I could not refuse. As I did, a man melted out from the shadows, and I was faced with a pair of familiar, ice-blue eyes.

My mind worked slowly; barely processing that Michael stood before me, examining me as if he were just as surprised as I was.

Had I fainted? This wouldn’t be the first time I had believed myself to be conscious, when I was actually walking through dreamland.

I stopped myself from reaching out and touching him; the anxious pounding of my heart warning me that I was _very_ awake.

He had changed since we last saw one another.

His posture was immaculate, though his body vibrated with a tense energy- as if he was working hard to contain something. He was dressed in the finest silks and velvets; his dark cloak lined with diamonds, and pearl stitching’s.

As he took a step forward, I saw the rings decorating his fingers. I smelled him, and all the memories, fears, and love came rushing back. I fought to control the shake of my body; desperate to appear strong when faced with the combined horror and rapture at reuniting.

My voice betrayed me in the end, coming out as nothing more than a meek whisper.

“Why are you here?”

A fury blazed in his narrowed eyes as he stepped forward; his tone matter of fact.

“For you.”

I jumped as he seized the back of my neck, his lips colliding against mine with a bruising force. I didn’t resist as his tongue penetrated my mouth, and his teeth punctured my lips.

Soon, he was groaning, and his murderous kiss turned tender. And when he pulled away, he was shaking just as much as I.

“I’ve found you,” he whispered; sinking to his knees, and wrapping his arms around my waist.

His fury had left, and was replaced with something akin to devotion. I saw it, and reached down to touch him, but he flinched; pressing his face against my stomach.

“ _No_ ,” he choked out, “I can’t lose you again.”

He continued to tremble as I ran my fingers through his soft hair, and I lost my breath as his arms tightened around my body; the pain like the clutch of a serpent. 

Suddenly, he stood.

His face was calm; a gentle smile taking over his features.

“I promised that I’d always bring you back to me.”

His words broke the spell.

As he tried to place his arms around me, I smelled iron.

“No!” I shouted, “Stay away from me!” 

I scrambled back, nearly falling over a box in the process.

His eyes momentarily widened in surprise, and then he was on me- grabbing me by the shoulders- his hold stronger than anything I had ever experienced before.

“You don’t say no to me,” he bit out; giving me a violent shake, before throwing me roughly into his arms. 

I screamed and bucked against him as he carried me through the house, and he laughed at my struggles.

“My rebellious little darling,” he cooed; inclining his head to place small kisses along my face.

I turned from his lips with a grimace. I could smell the blood on him, and it made me dizzy. When he swiftly set me on my feet in the kitchen, I almost swooned to the floor. He caught me before I could.

His fingers trailed up my arms, before curling under my chin; forcing my attention back to him.

“I know running away wasn’t your idea— _not completely_. Someone has bewitched you against me, and stolen you away,” he muttered; wiping the tears that fell against my skin. “I’ll find them. I promise you that. And when I do, I will rip them limb from limb.”

He wrenched me back against his body as I tried to move.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N,” he whispered; dropping his forehead to mine. “I know you’re confused. I’m not angry with you, beloved. You did what you felt was necessary.”

His lips slid against my skin. I felt him smile as he spoke.

“And I did what I had to do when I stabbed him through the heart.”

Michael grabbed me by the shoulders, and turned me; forcing me to face Victor’s obliterated body laid out on the kitchen floor. He took a deep breath as I shivered at the sight before me--- at the loss of another innocent life.

“He put up quite the fight. I had to chase him all around the house.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, and spoke calmly; his chin resting on my head.

“Who is he, and why was he hiding you? Hmm?? Where are Mallory and Cordelia?”

I refused to speak; only crying out when he took a section of my hair in his long fingers, and yanked.

“It doesn’t even matter,” he smiled; his tone irate. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. We’ll be safe at home, soon enough. But for now, I _must_ take you where no one can find us. Just until this thing that plagues your soul vacates you.”

As if I weighed nothing, he- once again- threw me into his arms.

I kept my cheek pressed against his chest as he walked; unwilling to open my eyes.

All I knew was that we were outside of the house, as I could feel the wind against my body. I did not care to see where he was taking me next. I didn’t want the memory of how he looked in that moment- the triumph on his face.

Miles passed in complete silence. He carried me; not speaking a word.

I couldn’t take it, and suddenly burst into tears; the tragedy of the day finally breaking through the exterior.

He stopped moving- standing very still as I continued to sob- my body shaking against him.

When I did finally open my eyes, I saw that we were standing in tall grass; similar to the variety I had seen growing near Victor’s house.

I looked up at Michael, and he met my gaze unflinchingly.

I saw light and dark, in near equal measure. There was also anger, confusion, betrayal, hurt, relief, love, triumph, and- yes- even hope.

He put me onto my feet. I swayed as a flash of heat over my body; my shoulder falling into his chest. His brow furrowed as he steadied me, and bent down to my level; his mouth taking over mine.

I did not return the kiss; instead, letting my chin drop down. As I spoke, his lips naturally moved to my forehead.

“How did you find out where I was?”

He sighed, and was silent for a long moment.

Then he took a step back.

“When you left, I was _very_ unhappy, as I’m sure you knew I would be, as you chose to leave under the cover of darkness,” he tsked, popping his hand lightly below my chin. “I was sure you had ran away with a man whom I had not yet discovered,” he added- flames dancing in his irises. “But then I heard talk of where you were hiding….that a man _was_ near, but was not the reason for your being there…”

His eyes began to fill accusingly, and I looked away.

“You tried to leave me. Yet, that one fact hasn’t changed, _has it?_ I was the _one_ important man in your life, and I _remain_ the one.”

Suddenly the smell of blood slowly morphed into something spicy.

Cinnamon filled my senses- the familiarity of the scent like a deadly embrace.

When I lifted my gaze, I saw that Michael’s pupils had turned black. Not only that, but the white of the eye was gone too- covered in the shadow.

Was this a hallucination, or was I finally seeing the truth of who he was?

From whom had he heard about my hiding place?

Something inside of me whispered that I already knew the answer--- that there was another energy at play in the situation that I had been refusing to acknowledge.

The man with the obsidian eyes—the dark prince who had kissed me outside of Cordelia’s house, and assured me that I was not alone.

I jumped as Michael began to lovingly stroke my face; his fingertips tracing tender patterns against the flesh.

“Did you _really_ think you could hide from me, little mouse? I know _everything.”_

…………………………………………………

After a few more miles spent in silence- in which we had walked next to one another through the tall grass- we finally came to the road where Michael had parked his carriage.

The driver stood patiently at the front; feeding and watering the horses.

I tried to make eye contact with him as Michael shuffled me towards the door, but the man refused to look me in the eye.

He must have been paid well.

I was placed inside the carriage. Michael got in next, and sat across from me; knocking on the roof of the wagon.

There was a sharp movement, and then we were moving; the horses running full-speed.

Though the agitation Michael had previously shown seemed to be fading- and the black had not returned- he still leered coldly at me for the entire length of the journey.

The placid and empty calm was almost worse. His glacial eyes revealed nothing.

He had pulled the curtains closed in a bid to keep in the dark about my location. I was afraid what lay in store for me next.

How had this happened to me?

I had only wanted to be with the man I loved- to finally feel safe in my tiny inconsequential standing in the world. Instead, Cordelia and Mallory may be dead, and I was heading to a new destination with my captor.

Where was this new hiding spot he had acquired?

And who did he have to destroy to obtain it?

………………………….

The carriage stopped abruptly.

Before I could stand, Michael had jumped out, and reached for me; lifting me down, and taking my hand as if I were a child. 

As he pushed me towards the small house, I tried one final time to catch the eye of the driver, but it was no use.

I followed my husband in a numb stupor- too exhausted to fight him. I could still feel the energy radiating throughout his body, and it made me nervous.

I looked at my surroundings, then.

This was the house of people who lived modestly.

I feared for them as Michael led me into a firelit library.

“Whose house is this?”

“She speaks!” he grinned; his manner arrogant. “Does it _really_ matter? It’s ours now. I made sure everything was prepared for you before I came to pick you up.”

“So, you’ve hurt someone to get what you want. _Again.”_

He dropped my hand, and fell down onto the couch; sprawling out with confidence, as if he owned the place, then he motioned for me to come closer.

I took a deep breath, and reluctantly walked to him. As I approached the couch, he pulled on my arm; bringing me into his lap.

He forced my cheek to his chest, and I laid there like a limp doll; listening to his calm and steady heartbeat. I tried to relax, but I found his hold more aggravating than ever before, and- after a time- I lifted my face, and pushed against him.

“Be still,” he bit out; his voice filled with vexation as he sensed my revulsion towards him. “I’m trying to be decent after how you’ve behaved, my darling. But you’re making it _supremely_ difficult.”

“I do not need your false decency. When men like you try to appear that way, that is when they are at their most cunning. _Let me up_.”

“Be sensible _, angel,”_ he said; his arms tightening as I struggled against him. “You and I _will_ be together. We belong together. And I love you.”

“You have killed my love for you.”

He reached out to touch me, and I flinched. He examined my creased brow, and look of distaste, with a slowly simmering fury. And though his voice was soft, it was apparent he was displeased, and confused.

“Am I _really_ so awful? Have I not protected you, and did what you asked of me, despite all the trouble you’ve continually caused me? I did _nothing_ these past few weeks but try and find you. I barely ate or slept. All I could think about was you—lodged away with your captors…. I didn’t know if you were afraid, or being taken care of. I imagined that you missed me, and wondered why I had not come to rescue you--- these thoughts haunted my dreams every night- tormenting me…”

His eyes began to fill with my extended silence, and I tried not to let the guilt inside of me change my manner towards him.

“I want your love back, Y/N. I want _you_ back. You were perfect before.”

I shook my head, sadly- unable to hold back.

“No…I was compliant.”

He looked wounded, and so much like the young man I had met years before. The grief of all that I had lost in him only served to enrage me. 

“Stop with the theatrics. You’ve won! You got what you wanted—me as your wife, _and_ your prisoner.”

He quickly sat up, and wrenched me from his lap, and onto the couch beside him. Then he was up, and silently pacing the room. Though his back was to me, I could tell that his sorrow over my words was fading the longer he pondered. He stopped and looked at me. Then he walked to the windows, and shut the curtains; turning to face me with his hands laced behind his back.

“You aren’t going to try and run, are you?”

“You know I have nowhere else to go,” I said; sitting back, and angrily crossing my arms.

He scoffed at the condemnation written on my features, then stepped forward to grab my chin in his hand.

“You are something exalted— _indefinable_ \--. You are neither my prisoner, nor my wife, so I never want to hear you say that to me, _ever again_. You mean far more to me. Words cannot evoke you.”

He released me, and walked from the room- leaving me alone with the heat of the fire.

There was an opening then- an opportunity to walk out the door, and take my chances in the world outside. But I hesitated. Deep down, I knew what he said was, indeed, true. There was nowhere I could run where he wouldn’t eventually find me, and the price of escape always involved innocent people, and a gamble with their lives.

I sighed loudly as I heard the clatter of dishes.

I followed the noise until I reached a tiny kitchen.

There were large pails lining the floor and the counters, and Michael was in the midst of all the chaos; heating the water inside of them.

He hadn’t yet noticed me, so I watched him with my cheek resting against the door jamb; the fading daylight from the window illuminating the blood on his face and clothing.

It was like I was looking upon a very methodical stranger; one who was free of thought.

_But not entirely._

Every so often, I would witness some intensity flash across his perfect visage, and I could still read them all so well, and the combat I witnessed was enough to break my heart all over again.

He was worried, and bewildered. There was even despair as he thought about himself, and the violence that seemed to follow wherever he went.

He knew _something_ was missing inside of him. There was a vacant void he’d always been able to feel, but never appraise.

As quickly as the clarity arrived, it disappeared, and therein lied the obstacle that continued to separate us—forcing us onto different paths leading in opposite directions.

I let out a shuddering breath, and he turned; surprised I had snuck up on him.

“We could make this place our own,” he observed. “It could be a _proper_ home. This is a nice kitchen… there are several bedrooms…You could be happy here with me.”

“Do you really believe that?”

He turned back- resolute to finish heating the water.

I moved closer.

“Where did that young boy go- The one whom I met in the garden? I no longer see him when I look into your eyes,” I whispered- my voice catching. “And I really loved him.”

I tried to convey everything I could not say.

I wanted to show him how that gulf between us was widening- that eventually, we would be continents apart- unable to ever again meet in the middle.

Instead, he perceived my passion as judgement.

His body trembled with rage as he fought to control his temper.

“What must I do to prove myself to you? Nothing will ever settle the score, _will it_? Maybe after a lifetime of devotion----maybe _then_ you will finally see. Maybe then you will finally acknowledge—"

“No. It’s impossible.”

“Why?” he bit out. “Explain what is so impossible about it. Tell me _why_.”

“Because I can think of _nothing_ besides what you’ve done to me--- what you _continue_ to do. Because I walk into a room expecting to see the man I fell in love with, and instead I find _you_.”

He leaned against the counter, and bit his lip; pondering my words. 

“Well…. What’s done is done, my love. I cannot be who I used to be any more than you can. You will just have to get to know the man I am now.”

“I don’t want to know him. He isn’t enough for me,” I said- refusing to break the eye contact that he was currently using as a weapon. “If I cannot have the one I love, then I want nothing from you…..I just wanted you to know that.”

He stood back up to his full height, and shrugged.

“I hope to change your mind while we’re here.”

Then he turned; going back to his work of pouring hot water into the empty pails.

In a daze, I made to leave the room. His hand slamming onto the counter startled me; stopping my movement. 

“Cordelia and Mallory…. What I’d give to get my hands around their throats. I’d like to see them both laid out below me- without a breath left in their bodies.”

He turned and clocked my look of horror; relishing in it, and detesting it, in equal measure.

“Is your love solely reserved for them? The world has done absolutely nothing to deserve your mercy, yet, you always seem to find something good there,” he whispered. “Can you not do that for me? Am I to be cut off from your love forever?”

“Michael….” I sighed. “I love you……and, I cannot forgive you.”

His nostrils flared as he moved closer- grabbing my waist, and lifting me up against his body.

“Maybe I should go back, and find your dear friends….what do you think? I could head there while you bathe-----"

“No! Please…..I will do whatever you want…. Just… leave them alone.”

He continued to stare- calm and blank- then he dropped me to my feet, and grabbed two pails; his shoulder hitting into mine as he walked by, and headed toward the stairs.

“Come on. I’ll set you a bath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I liking the way this story is going? No. Is it almost torturous to write because of that? Yes. But, I already have the next chapter written, and will post it in a few days if any of you are still interested in this fic lmao.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Michael share a forced honeymoon. Dinner within the flames of Hell.
> 
> Warnings: Smut towards the end that may feel a bit dub-con.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to dedicate this chapter to three of the loveliest people I’ve ever known: Ashe, Dana, and Lauren. Intelligent, funny, kind, and talented. JUST WOW, BITCH. You three have been the most ardent supporters of UW, especially since I’ve left tumblr. Many times, I would have given up on it if it wasn’t for you. So, thank you for being you, and for still willingly extending your friendship to me; despite it all lol. Also, thanks to all of you who are still reading, and leaving your amazing comments. I cherish them!!! It’s been about a year since I posted the first chapter. Time goes so fast…
> 
> PS: the final quote is from Paradise Lost :)

I sat in the rapidly cooling water; my anxiety in overdrive.

Michael had been in a stormy mood as he had filled the basin with warm water. Once he had completed his task, he had left me there alone- without a word. I was glad to be free of him for those moments.

But after a continued length of utter silence, I began to get restless. The bath was working to soothe my muscles, but was failing to settle my brain, and my heart.

What was to become of us now? There was far too much time to think about what had taken place, and what had not yet come to pass. What diabolical thing did Michael have planned next?

I swiftly stood, and wrapped myself in the towel he had left for me. It was then that I realized I had no clothing to change into. The thought of stepping back into the dress I’d arrived in seemed unappealing.

I walked with wet feet into the biggest bedroom in the house, and slid open the drawers. Inside were clothes designed for a woman and a man. They appeared to be a little older in style compared to the current look, popular today.

I picked out a nightgown that I believed would fit, and reluctantly thought on the owners of the property, and what had befallen them. As I turned to change, my eyes fell upon Michael, and in my alarm, the dress dropped to the floor.

He stood in the doorway, still covered in blood, and breathing hard. His eyes drifted up my towel-clad body as I pulled the material tightly around myself- his hungry gaze lingering in certain areas- a flush falling across his cheeks, and the bridge of his nose.

“What do you want?”

His eyes flew to mine at the sound of my voice, and I beheld his scrutiny; watching him closely as he observed me in turn. With a slowly rising panic, I seemed to witness the exact moment a decision had been made, and my veins filled with ice water.

Before I could take a step, I was seized, and pinned against the wall by his strong hands. He listed his body against my own, and dug his fingers into my wrists- keeping me still as his lips traveled from my temple to my ear; his voice, a warm honey.

“I _want_ to tear this towel from your body, and push you to the floor. I _want_ to lift your breasts to mouth, and put my mark all over you. I’d take my time- kissing my way across your skin- inch by inch. And when I reached that little cunt of yours, I’d lick into your folds, and press my tongue against you …. I wouldn’t stop until you begged me to—until you were throbbing.”

He pressed his fingers against me through the towel, and against my better judgement, I arched into his touch.

“I want to eat you, Y/N. But it wouldn’t be an outright pleasure for you.…. I would torture you first---sucking so tenderly that you’d be moved to tears with your need for me. I wouldn’t stop tasting you until you were soaked and shaking.”

His fingers had stilled, but my hips continued to move against them- despite my shame. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, but understanding, as well. We both were aware of how touch had always been able to wipe the slate clean between us; however briefly. He leaned in, and licked a line up my throat; his breath now coming in harsh pants.

“I want to spread you wide, and fuck you,” he said; placing his arms on either side of my form, and imprisoning me. “I’d come inside of you—fill your womb with my child.”

At his words, my eyes shot open, and I fought to push him away, but it was useless. His heavy form was anchoring me in place, and my strength could not overcome his.

“Tell me what I have to do to be welcomed into your bed?”

“There is nothing you can do,” I whispered; desperate to dodge his hands, which caught my face, and lifted my gaze to his.

“Y/N…. I can’t be around you, and not want you.”

“Michael, _no_ …”

“You’re trembling,” he interrupted; inclining his head to press a wet kiss against my throat. “Don’t be afraid of me, my love. It’s okay….”

I failed to contain the whimper as my body responded to the drifting heat of his mouth. Then his lips were on mine, silencing me for good. I gasped into his mouth as his thumbs swiped across my peaked nipples- the sensation strong, even with the towel separating his skin from mine. The harder I fought to shake him off, the more excited he got; groaning, and pressing me further into the wall. It was only when I bit down on his lip that he pulled away.

He looked feral in that moment.

His pupils were dilated to an alarming degree, and his lips were swollen. On his face was an expression of lust and vexation. As he examined my frazzled state, he almost seemed ready to comply; though he was completely unwilling. But then a spark of defiance overtook his blue eyes, and he thrust his hands under the edge of my towel- gripping it in a bid to tear it from my body. I dropped my hands to his; holding them in place, and barring him from accomplishing his goal.

He didn’t flinch as my fingernails bit into his skin. Instead, he smiled; flipping his wrist to interlock our hands together.

“My darling… you better think of a way to resolve this, and _quickly_. Otherwise I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

When his fingers twined into my hair to turn up my mouth to his, I evaded it- sliding my palms against his chest- desperate to put distance between us.

“Go away, Michael.”

“My poor, innocent, little wife,” he laughed. “When are you going to admit the truth? You don’t _want_ me to go away…… That’s never been what you truly desired. So, take off your towel, Y/N, and I will fall to my knees, and throw your leg over my shoulder—”

“That ceremony was a sham-” I said; averting my eyes to my wedding ring. “the next step in whatever scheme you’ve been keeping from me. It meant absolutely nothing.”

He watched with nervous eyes as I slipped the piece of jewelry from my finger; his voice tense.

“You have no legal right to refuse me. You are my wife, and I can force you to--"

“Go ahead. Michael. _Force me.”_

He looked like a sullen angel as I held the ring out to him; his wide eyes staring me down. Finally, he averted his gaze, and took a step back; swallowing harshly.

“I am going to wash this blood off of me,” he mumbled. “Goodnight.”

As he left, I slammed the door behind him; locking it.

Then I threw the ring on the counter, pulled the stranger’s dress over my head, and collapsed onto the mattress.

………………………………………………………………..

As the hours passed, the room continued to dim until no light remained. And I had not moved from my position; curled up on my side. My nerves were frayed, as I was certain that- at any moment- Michael would break down the door and force himself into bed. Even worse was that I may let him.

Unable to stand anymore of my tiresome imagination, I stood on increasingly shaky legs, and walked to the window- throwing open the drapes.

It was late- far past the witching hour- and the moon illuminated the fields that stretched for miles in nearly every direction. What it didn’t touch was pitch black.

If I happened to escape, I knew I wouldn’t get far before he found me. Even if I did, I had no idea where I was, and there were no guarantees I wouldn’t get lost in the barren countryside.

_The devil you know…_

I moved from the window, and examined my surroundings- rifling through closets and drawers- until my fingers grazed across something metallic in the bottom drawer of the dresser, underneath a stack of sheets.

A letter opener.

Michael had always had a penchant for a similarly engraved weapon back at the Langdon house.

Did Michael place the instrument here as a test of loyalty—as a challenge?

Memories of the occasions when he had used the scissors on me, and others, ran through my mind, and before I knew it, I was out in the hallway- weapon in hand.

I found Michael- sound asleep- in the bedroom next to my own.

As I slowly approached and rounded the bed; I held the blade out from my body, and aimed directly at him. I was now close enough to hear each soft intake of his breath, and my heart threatened to jump out of my chest with the proximity.

I hesitated, watching him sleep.

He appeared so peaceful- like an angel with the most pristine conscience. But as I continued to study him, I remembered the fall that was- in my head- so similar to the plummet of Lucifer.

A pang of grief shot through me; the likes of which I had never felt before. I thought about plunging the knife straight into my own heart- at least the bloodshed would bring things to the sad conclusion that my caretaker had always envisioned for me.

Why continue to fight against the inevitable? 

At this moment, I was stuck in my role as prisoner as images of Michael- seeking revenge, and hunting down my friends- stopped my contemplations of death entirely.

But that didn’t mean I had to be passive in captivity.

I dropped a knee to the bed, and leaned into his space; pressing the blade against his throat. His eyes shot open at the feel of cold metal, and locked directly on mine.

I gasped as his hand flew up, and wrapped tightly around my wrist. I believed he would take the knife from me, or push me to the floor.

He did neither.

“Do it,” he challenged; pressing onto my hand, and putting further pressure on his jugular. His other arm remained down at his side.

His eyes were speculative, but gleaming; almost as if he were curious to see what I would do next—what the shake of my hands symbolized. And my resolve began to dissipate under his intent analysis.

He inhaled deeply, then wrapped his free arm around my hips; positioning me so that I straddled his waist. The change forced my hand against him, and he hissed as the blade bit into his soft skin; drawing blood.

There was something carnal in watching the ruby red liquid flow in rivulets from my lover’s neck; my nightgown hiked up around my hips.

Maybe even a bit satisfying. But I was never _truly_ draconian- no matter how hard I worked in my short life to adopt the façade- no matter how long I fought to keep the mask in place- and on instinct, I tried to move the sharp object away from his wound.

But he never let up, and continued to search my expression; his hand falling heavy over my own.

“Come on, angel. If you want to end my life so badly, this is your one chance.”

He longed to return to the parasitic nature of before. He wanted me to need him, and he asked- with pleading eyes- that he be permitted to need me in return.

His fingertips drifted across my features- collecting tears I did not realize had fallen- and my hand went completely limp in his grasp; the most negligent of surrenders.

He exhaled, finally allowing my hand to fall from his.

I felt the quick movement of his greedy fingers skim my dress as the letter opener fell, and clattered noisily onto the floor. As soon as I fell sobbing against his throat, he lifted my hips, and pressed against my entrance- thrusting deep inside of me in one, swift stroke.

He groaned- reveling in my submission- as I continued to cry against him; biting into the skin of his shoulder.

I allowed him to rock his body up into mine. The constant back and forth between love and hatred had exhausted me beyond belief. Pleasure and pain warred inside of me; as they always seemed to do when it came to Michael. My cries melded with my moans until the difference between them cold not be deciphered.

His warm hands moved down my body, gripping my thighs, and using them to guide my movements. I had the vampiric urge to lick the blood from the wound I had caused, so I gave in to my desire- my tongue darting out to collect the liquid on my tongue- my fingers tangling into his golden hair, and tugging until his chin was pointed towards the sky.

His hips continued to careen into mine as he opened his eyes- his gaze falling on my crimson-tinged lips. Then he was pulling me down by the nape of my neck; our lips meeting with bruising force, as he ramped up the pace.

Although I felt as if my body might be split apart by the force of his passion, I began to flutter around him; my nails sinking deep into his scalp. He growled at the pain, flipping me to my back, and pounding into me; the new angle causing my whole body to tense.

“Let us start anew from this day forth,” he groaned, biting into the flesh of my neck. “You and I- for better or worse- like we promised.”

We must have looked the diabolical pair: the both of us stained with blood, and tears, and sin.

Denial had never changed anything when it came to Michael and I, and if there _was_ a Hell, we certainly had spots reserved for us.

At least we’d be together there.

We deserved no less.

“Harder,” I moaned; allowing my head fall back into the pillow- unable to keep eye contact.

But still- he pushed he threaded his fingers against mine, and I let him. Our interlocked hands were the sole thing keeping us linked to one another.

There was nothing left anymore.

I held on, and closed my eyes.

……………………………………………

_I am dreaming of a blazing inferno._

_The profile of the familiar man is all I can see as I move closer to the heat of the flames._

_He turns and takes my hand in his; his kiss burning a hole in the pulse point of my wrist._

_“It won’t be long now,” he purrs. “I’ll see you soon.”_

A harsh breath raced forth from my lungs as I jolted awake, and looked around the space with confusion; briefly forgetting I was in bed, naked, and covered by a flimsy sheet.

Though I felt as if I had slept for days, the room was still dark- the only light coming from a single candle that had been placed on the dresser. Michael was absent; his side of the bed, cold. 

I sat up and looked around me- the horror of what I was seeing taking a long time for my hazy brain to process.

The drapes had been ripped down from the windows, and across the panes of glass were wood beams that had been nailed in place. How had he done this while I slept, mere feet away? He had also left a stack of books, paper, and a pen on the desk.

What had happened between us had not soothed him in the slightest, as it was clear then that he was taking further steps to ensure that I did not try to escape him. Our passion only served to increase his hunger. I knew I should have been more alarmed by this revelation, but I only felt numb, and a bit bruised.

I winced as I pushed down the sheet, and finally saw what he had done-- what we had done _together._

I felt unclean, and ashamed, as if I should hide my face; though no one was near enough to judge me. I thought about Dorian briefly; my eyes going straight to the blade, which still lay on the floor, where it had fallen hours ago.

He had left me alone with it- not considering me, _or it,_ a threat.

“I trust you with my life.”

Michael stood in the doorway- his pose of ease as infuriating as a sharp slap to the face.

“You trust me with your life, but you lock me in a room. You trust me with your life, but you refuse to tell me what you’ve been up to these last few years…”

“Would you _really_ want to know? Would you even dare it?”

He smirked at my silence, and I felt the sudden need to laugh hysterically, or scream until I cried.

“Get dressed. I’ll bring you breakfast.”

He left the room, and shut the door behind him- the sound of the lock sliding into place, like a gunshot.

I stood, and slipped on the dress he had torn from my body; running swiftly to the door, and pulling on the knob.

It refused to budge.

Next, I went to the window and tried to find a spot around the boards that I could edge my fingers underneath. But there weren’t many, and each piece seemed to be firmly embedded into the wall.

The sound of the door being pushed open did not stop me in my task. I continued pulling on things; looking for a way to destroy the prison he had crafted for me.

“You could never pry those off,” he said; his voice filled with amusement. “And even if you _did_ manage it, where would you go?”

I turned, and crossed my arms angrily- watching as he took each item from the tray, and set up our breakfast for two. He worked with a small smile on his face that I immediately thought about slapping off.

His grin grew, as if he heard my private thoughts, and in a few sudden strides, he had crossed to me, and grabbed me into his arms; his lips slanting over mine. He pulled back to whisper ‘good morning,’ before leaning in; intent to capture my kiss once more. That time, I managed to evade him, and he raised a brow.

“So cold….” He mused. “You aren’t some helpless, Victorian heroine, you know. The proclamation that you are a prisoner is quite tiresome when you tried to kill me last night.”

“I’m free to do what I’d like, then? I can leave the house- leave _you_?”

He took hold of my shoulders, steering me towards the table; his voice happy, and care-free.

“I want you to do exactly what pleases you, Y/N. I would never want you to be anyone but the woman you are.”

He stood next to his chair, and motioned to mine; waiting patiently for me to sit down. When I did, he followed suite.

“That’s better,” he smiled; picking up his cutlery, and beginning to eat.

I looked down at my own plate, then quickly back to him.

“It’s your favorite dish,” he said; his eyes shining brightly with exuberant energy. “Do you see how I consider you, angel?”

I ignored his cocky expression, and leaned back in my chair; refusing to touch a thing.

“Please, do your best to refrain from being annoying today,” he sighed, sliding the plate closer. “Anyway- it wouldn’t do you any good to deny yourself the sustenance. How can you continue to fight me, and make plans to escape if you have no energy?”

“You’re right,” I said; smiling sarcastically, and taking my first bite of food. “You must be _very_ happy with yourself.”

He leaned forward- placing his elbows on the surface of the table- and returned my smile.

“If you’re asking if I intend to enjoy my time here—to celebrate the fact that I succeeded in getting you here with me—then, _yes_. I am _thrilled_ with myself.”

“Even if it comes at the expense of what others desire? What _I_ desire?”

“Others should learn to want what I desire, as it’s for the best in the long run.”

“And what if they _never_ learn that lesson. What then?”

“Then there’s clearly something that’s gone wrong in their head’s, and the only option is to wait for it to right itself.”

I leaned back in my chair. My eyes narrowing.

“Besides darling, they should know that it’s not smart to rebel when the odds are stacked against them in such a way.”

“This is not a game of poker, Michael. I am a human being.”

He took in my manner and my words, and then mirrored me- leaning back- his brow creased.

“Alright. I’ll humor you. Let me hear it. What would _you_ prefer I do, hmm? How should I solve this dilemma?”

“I would _prefer_ that you let me go- as I’ve said _many_ times.”

“And as _I’ve said-_ _many more_ times- you ask for too much. I’ve told you that I will give you anything you ask for. _Anything_.”

“Then—"

“Except for _that._ ”

“So, you lied. I _am_ here to be your prisoner, after all.”

“You are here for your own protection. But call it what you will.”

“You wish for me to sit silently, and be a pawn in your little charade? To sit here and eat with my captor like nothing is wrong. Is that it?”

“I simply wish for you to accept the inevitable. We were made for one another. We’re family,” he purred. “Our souls are bound.”

“As if I could _ever_ come to terms with—”

“We seemed to come to terms last night. In fact, I’ve never felt such a harmonious agreement.”

I felt myself heat up under his amused glare.

“That…was a mistake.”

“A mistake that you repeated over and over and over, for hours. Give it up, Y/N.”

I turned in my chair, and closed my eyes- unable to look at him any longer.

“You can hate me if you’d like. Your safety is the only thing that matters to me.”

Nothing he said was making sensing. Who did I need protection from, besides the man in front of me?

This parasite who wore my lover’s face had drained the life from me—taking everything, until I was an empty husk of a human.

In that moment, I would have given anything to have one more conversation with the Michael of years gone by. But the boy I had fallen in love with was gone—never to return.

I felt a part of myself give under the weight of that truth.

“Say something,” he quietly pleaded. 

I did not trust anyone with my pain- especially not him.

He could not understand it.

In effect, I tried hard to retain the mask of angry indifference that I wore. But the mask slipped, and I felt the tears form in my eyes.

“What have I ever done to make you despise me in this way?”

He frowned- his hooded eyes narrowing even further- and moved his plate to the side; coming to kneel in front of me.

“I know it may seem that way, and I know you’re angry with me, but this all will pass,” he replied, taking my hands in his. “Eventually, I can reveal what I’ve been up to, and you’ll see why every moment of struggle was necessary. Then we will finally be able to live as we were always meant to—just me and you. _Foreve_ r.”

He rose, and made to clear the plates, his voice taking on a chipper tone that sent a shiver up my spine.

“I cannot wait to reveal to you all that I’ve done. It directly references our future, Y/N. Our _forever.”_

“For now, you must stay here, where I can watch over you. I promised I would protect you, and I will keep that promise.”

……………………

His promise to protect me began soon after our disastrous breakfast, as he immediately became stricter in regards to the terms of my confinement.

I was no longer permitted to wander the house, but was locked into the room with my books, and a heap of candles. He came to me multiple times a day- leaving food, and water, and- every so often- taking me to the bathroom, and to walk outside. He tried to encourage me to write, or pick up a novel from the stack he had left me, but I did neither.

I was filled with a bitter resentment over my circumstances, and the main target of my rage was Michael himself.

After a few weeks of hell, I began to refuse food- using a hunger strike as a means to reach the last vestiges of humanity in him, but it only aggravated him further.

He threatened to force the food down my throat if I continued to deny him.

What he could not do was force me to speak.

Everytime he worked to engage me in conversation, I refused to interact with him at all. I simply acted as if he did not exist in the minuscule world he had created for me. And as the day’s passed in silence, he became increasingly more despondent. He’d get into bed, and lean over my body; looking at me with those wide, expectant eyes where unshed tears seemed to always be pooling. He would nuzzle my cheek- his hands pressing my cold form to his warmth.

I would not resist his touch, but instead, lie there limply; allowing him to move me around like his own personal doll. This outraged him the most. His moods would swing wildly. At one minute, he’d be upset- his body shaking with sobs as if he were a child. Then he’d be furious: his anger filling the room so completely that I feared he may strike me, or even kill me.

When all else failed, he pressed his lips to mine; sucking on them, and trying to force the reaction he so craved. He would whimper and whine until I was forced to turn my head from him. I was barely able to tolerate the smell of the man I had once loved so dearly.

The cinnamon- which now only appeared every once in a while- existed only to cover up something that had decayed, and gone rotten.

This plot took a certain amount of willpower to enact, as I knew I had the power to end my prison term, and quite easily. All I had to do was agree to stay by his side forever—to love him, and support him—no matter what nefarious secrets he still held.

But I knew I couldn’t. The price was too high.

Michael would stay just long enough to exhaust me completely.

He’d whisper that I needed rest- that he was watching over me, and I was safe- then he would leave; slamming the door shut behind him, the lock sliding into place.

I continued to wither away under his care.

I lost weight.

Dark rings forming beneath my eyes.

I began to hallucinate.

The nightmares were no longer present _only_ in my sleep, but also visited while I was awake.

I heard voices, saw shadows, and harbored strange ideas that did not feel like my own. My waking thoughts felt more like visions than anything else.

In them, I watched myself walk into a barn near the house. In that barn was tools of all sorts, and even body parts and strange books—the sort I had seen in Michael’s house near the river.

Blood stained the floor, and the stench was unpleasant, yet faraway.

I emerged with a branding iron; and walked back into the house- using the fireplace to heat it.

Then a flash of me holding the iron to---

_Time to go._

………………………..

I heard vibrant laughter as I regained consciousness.

I woke harboring an excessive cough, burning eyes, and a raw throat, along with the sensation that something was _very_ wrong.

I trained an ear to the silence that I had grown so accustomed to only to discover an ominous crackling noise that seemed to ring above everything else. The sound was loud and close, and immediately raised my hackles. Next was a flash of light- seen even behind my closed eyes- which prompted them to shoot open with the intensity.

I quickly sat up; surveying the horror around me.

The smoke that filled the room seemed as thick as wall. Through the haze, I could see that the curtains were on fire, as was the blanket on my lap; the flames were slowly creeping up the posts of the bed, and traveling throughout the room.

I screamed, and threw the blanket to the floor.

A quick glance toward the windows told me they were still nailed shut—there was no way I would be able to make it out that way. Strangely, the door to my room hung wide open, and the usually dark hallway was faintly lit.

The entire house was going up in flames.

My breath caught, and my heart pounded against my chest. Panic and the will to live was finally present after being absent for so long. Right then, Michael stepped into the doorframe; his eyes alight with surprise as he took in the room.

His body seemed to fall against the wood as he processed the wall of fire that was starting to surround my body- appearing ashen-faced- as if he may suddenly pass out from the shock.

He charged to my bed, scooping me into his arms, and out of the room. I looked back as we turned the corner; watching as the flames consumed the section of the floor where we had previously stood. As he took me down the stairs, and through the house, I could hear the rafters screeching and falling around us, and I immediately began to sweat at the immensity of the heat.

Then out we went- through the front door- and into the night air; where he laid me to the ground; his breath coming out in harsh pants.

I coughed wildly as he rose- towering over my shivering form.

He looked relieved as he glanced at the barn in the distance. It had not been touched by the flames, as of yet.

Then his eyes met with mine.

To my surprise, he not only looked clear-headed for the first time in a long while- but he also looked _infuriated_ \- and that fury was aimed directly at me.

“Y/N…..are you out of your fucking mind? Were you trying to kill the both of us?”

My brow furrowed in confusion at his accusation, as he continued to scream at me- his anger radiating throughout his body.

Suddenly, he quit speaking.

It appeared as if abruptly remembered something of extreme importance.

When he looked back at me, his anger had melted away. Alarm had taken its place.

“ _Please._ Wait right here, darling,” he said; running back to the house.

I quickly stood- my body taut with anxiety- as I watched him enter the front door of the slowly melting structure.

I felt dizzy then, and placed my hand to my forehead; my eyes drifting shut though I begged them to stay open.

Curiously, all sensations of terror or hysteria dimmed substantially.

I no longer thought of Michael or myself.

All that remained was the strange compulsion to run.

I gave in- taking off through the dark field- traveling as fast as my bare feet would take me, in the direction that felt _right._ I had no knowledge of how far I had gone, or for how long I had been running. I felt as if I was being carried on the wind.

And then, consciousness.

I now stood on a stone road- a line of darkened trees lining each side.

In the distance was an abandoned house.

The path I stood on seemed to lead straight to its door- as if there was no other option but to enter its confines.

I felt empty as I made my way toward the structure—numb.

I was myself, but I was absent.

Whoever stood behind the door wanted it that way—knew I wouldn’t have accepted the invitation otherwise. 

I ascended up the stairs, and turned the knob; my face brushing against a mass of cobwebs as I entered the foyer of the derelict house.

Suddenly- the fear plummeted straight back into my soul- as if I was falling from a great height. I watched as the image around me shifted and morphed- transforming itself from a tiny, dark cavern, to a spacious royal hall; lit beautifully by hundreds of candles.

In the center of the room was a long table piled high with delicacies of every sort. My eyes traveled down until I reached the end- the one part of the room stilled bathed in shadows.

Even in the dark, I knew who sat at the head of the table.

The chair nearest to where I stood pulled out on its own accord; bidding me to take a seat.

The man’s honeyed voice came to me then; stroking my body in its sensual caress.

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is…” he smiled- a hint of playfulness apparent in his tone. “And saw Virtue in her shape- how lovely: and pined his loss.”


	13. This fic is moving to my other ao3 account

I am moving Unhallowed Wretch to my other ao3 account- ApocalypseBarbiee. I am going to be using SisteroftheMoon for fandom writing not related to ahs (I am currently experiencing a lack of feedback, and there doesn't seem to be much interest in my ahs fandom writing as of late, so I am currently only working on fics for another fandom. If anything changes, I'll let you know!) 

All of my Cody Fern fics will now be saved on ApocalypseBarbiee for your future reading, if you choose to do so! 

-Carissa (SisteroftheMoon

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading a ton of books when I thought of this idea. Books like 'Frankenstein,' 'Rebecca,' 'The Phantom of the Opera,' and 'Jane Eyre.' I couldn't stop thinking about the antichrist, and I was immersed in these books, so I was like, I'm going to combine these elements and see what happens haha. I honestly do not know where I am going with this yet...


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